My champion, desirous of serving me still more, picked up my poor Timothy, who, having been thrown down and trampled upon, was in no little pain. He breathed better, however, when his arms were freed and his legs unbound, and began to lament the loss of the horses and litter, which made us think he was coming round finely. We left him, therefore, to look to Joseph, who was in a desperate state, having been almost smothered by the gag which was tied over his mouth and nostrils. His face, swollen and discoloured, was fearful to look upon, but I took his poor head on my lap and endeavoured to induce him to drink from a flask my rescuer had put in my hand.
The good knight stood by me, with the kindest eyes it seemed to me that I had ever seen.
'Give him time,' he said; 'give him time. There is no hurry.'
It seemed to me, as I glanced at him, that he would have stood there all day with great content, so long as he could watch me doing things, and no doubt he was tired, having ridden far.
'But look after the others, please,' I said, feeling anxious about Betsy and John.
'They are all right,' he answered. 'They have picked themselves up bravely. And your man is coming round.'
Then one of his followers came up to him, saying, 'Sir Hubert, we do wrong to linger here. Those villains will return with greater numbers, bent upon wreaking vengeance. There was one amongst them of good birth, and a knight, but of low nature, who is notorious for crime. He will return, if no one else does; and the lady——'
The rest of the sentence I could not hear, but it seemed to mightily excite my brave deliverer.
Joseph was sitting up whilst this was going on, and begging my pardon for the liberty he had taken in lying down with his head on my lap. At the same moment John and Betsy declared themselves recovered.
'Lady,' said the knight, ''tis necessary that we hurry on. Say, could you ride my horse? Or stay, Smith,' turning to one of his men, 'you have a quiet nag; bring her here for the lady.'