But no sound came from the set mouth, and the child broke out into piteous distress, sobbing and choking as though her heart would break.
Ralph was touched. Even in his own stony sorrow he felt for the poor child.
"Nay, nay, he may not be dead," he said, trying to comfort her. "See, he moves!" he cried, noticing a quiver of the gauntleted hand.
"Let me look, my son," said the gentle voice of the other stranger. "Go thou, catch yonder horse; thy lord lives, and will recover."
"Will he?" cried Ralph joyously, springing up and going in search of the horses, which, well trained as they were, were standing under the shelter of the thorn-bush out of the fast-driving snow.
When he returned leading the two horses, he was delighted to find Lord Woodville sitting up.
"My fair boy," said the Captain of the Wight, in a faint voice, "thou must help me on to my charger and lead me home. I have been hard stricken, albeit the wound is not mortal. But before thou aidest me, see to the state of Sir George Lisle: I would be loth he should die."
Lord Woodville spoke with difficulty, and paused between his words.
Ralph did as he was told, and found the two shrouded figures still bending over the inanimate knight.
"The Lord Woodville hath sent me to make inquiry of the knight--how fareth he?"