"In all fashions, Mother. Why, 'twas like this—"
"Hush, Cecil, I can make naught of thy prattle. 'Tis too fast and too broken. Prithee, let Sir Christopher tell me the whole story."
"Art sure thou hast strength to hear it?"
"I am sure I have not strength to do without it longer. Tell me, in Heaven's name, how it comes that thou whom all men counted dead art returned alive to be the saving of us all."
"Thank God, I was in time!"
"But how, when, where?"
"Nay, 'tis too long a story, and thou art still too weak."
"Not I," said Elinor scornfully, making an effort to sit up, but failing pitifully and sinking back again.
"There, see, thou hast no more strength than I when I fell against the gate of St. Mary's last night, and they pulled me in like a log. 'Twas well Philpotts had kept his breath and could cry the warning. I think the villagers took me for a ghost, for they looked at me with dazed eyes and did my bidding as though I were something beyond nature. Sheriff Ellyson lent me his sword. I owe him much thanks, else had we not this valiant little warrior with us now."