"But, grandpapa," resumed Erard, looking at the old man, "do not Christians also die in battle? God does not preserve them all."
"If my son has laid down his life for the Lord," continued Gottfried, "he is not dead: his soul has gone from this world to be with his Saviour."
"To be with my good mamma!" said the child. "In heaven with the angels, is it not, dear grandpapa?"
"To be with thy mother, my son," replied the old man, drawing the child towards him. "Yes, in the heaven of the blessed! It is there that all those who love Jesus go, and your mother was his faithful servant."
Erard sighed, and exclaimed, "O, how good will God be if he has preserved my father, my good father! O, grandpapa, why did you let him go?"
"Erard," replied the old Christian, "your father would rather not have fought, he has so much patience and in his heart; but then he also has courage: he has been surnamed----"
"Grandpapa," interrupted the child, with agitation, and pointing with his hand towards the plain, under the declivity of the hill, and in a narrow passage between the rocks and woods, "do you see those three horsemen?"
In fact, three armed warriors were hastening, at the utmost speed of their horses, towards a thick coppice, which they entered, and disappeared. The first seemed to be flying before the two others, who appeared to be in furious pursuit.
Gottfried listened, but no sound was heard; and, a few moments afterwards, he distinctly saw two of the warriors come out of the wood and hasten towards the plain, repassing the defile.
"Alas!" said the old man, groaning, "they have killed him! They have dipped their hands in the blood of their brother!"