I laughed. The rain had ceased. The sun was getting up, and the air was fresh. Far off in the plain the city sparkled with a thousand gems. I thought of Marie, I thought of life, and I thanked God that I was alive.
'I have an errand for you,' he continued, a laugh in his eyes. 'Come and see what we took yesterday, besides this sconce.'
At the back of the work were two low huts, that had perhaps been guardrooms or officers' quarters. He led the way into one, bending his head as he passed under the low lintel.
'An odd place,' he said.
'Yes, my lord.'
'Yes, but I mean--an odd place for what I found here,' he rejoined. 'Look, man.'
There were two low bunks in the hut, and on these and on the floor lay a medley of soldiers' cloaks, pouches, weapons, and ammunition. There was blood on the one wall and the door was shattered, and in a corner, thrown one on another, were two corpses. The Waldgrave took no heed of these, but stepped to the corner bunk and drew away a cloak that lay on it. Something--the sound in that place scared me as a cannon-shot would not have--began to wail. On the bed, staring at us between tears and wonder, lay a child.
'So!' I said, and stared at it.
'Do you know it?' the Waldgrave asked.
'Know it? No,' I answered.