Glory be to God the Lord,
My refuge and my great reward.
To Him my prayer shall ever be
Who holp me in extremity.
The young man began to sob. The father leaned with both hands upon his sword. For a long time he was silent. He would not speak so long as that evening prayer lasted.
His son threw himself sobbing on the ground, and moistened the flagstones with his tears.
"Do you wish to live?" asked the father in a low voice.
Henry rose from the ground with overflowing joy. He was certain from this sudden softness of tone that the mortal rage of his father had given way to a milder frame of mind.
"Are you not sorry for that poor creature?" inquired his father.
"I love her as I love my own soul."
"I didn't ask you that, I asked you whether you feel compassion for her; you need say no more."
"Yes, I do."
"Do you feel compassion for your father?"