"Yet she gave you this token," he said.
"Yes, but only in that sort of pity and love with which a maid will always regard the departure, perhaps to his death, of one who has truly loved her. Methinks perhaps her heart, too, told her that we should meet no more. Sweet Alys, farewell, farewell. Now methinks I have done with life. It is after all but a battlefield to fit us for the haven of peace beyond. Pray God be with my father in his hour of extremity, and give to us a meeting on the other side!"
Leofric bent his head and spoke a low-toned Amen; then one of the monks approached to administer the last rites of the Church, and hear the faint confession breathed by those white lips.
How went the battle? Leofric was rent in twain by the desire to fling himself into that fight and die for the cause he had embraced, and by reluctance to leave his comrade whilst the spark of life still lingered.
Suddenly Jack came rushing back, his breastplate covered with blood, his sword reeking, his whole aspect distraught. He had no horse under him, and he staggered slightly as he pressed onwards; but when Leofric sprang to his side, he said,—
"I am not wounded—would that I were—I am but choked with dust and reek. Undo my vizor and give me air. Leofric, the battle is ended. The great Earl is dead!"
"Dead!" cried Leofric, startled in spite of himself, and the look upon Jack's face as it was exposed to view corroborated his words.
"I could not get near him, though I fought like a fury. Methinks my right arm has slain a score of men this day. I cared not how soon they hewed me down, and yet I escaped. But I was near; I heard and saw, and I heard what they said of him. They brought him news that Lord Henry had fallen, whereat he grasped his sword in both hands and cried, 'By the arm of St. James, then is it time that I died also!' With that he laid about him right and left with such fury that men fell like thistles around him. But others pressed on from behind, and all called aloud upon him to surrender—to surrender—" and Jack drew his breath hard in rage and scorn.
"But he did not?"
"Didst think he would? Nay, his was no coward blood that would surrender to caitiff churls. I, even I, heard that clarion voice ring out once more amid the din of battle. 'Never will I surrender to dogs and perjurers!' it cried. 'To God alone will I yield. To Him I give up my spirit.' And even so saying he fell, pierced by a hundred wounds;" and there Jack suddenly broke off, with a look upon his face of concentrated fury which for the moment Leofric did not understand.