rom the house, were bearing home the wounded youth. Philip first
of all dashed in hurrying and stumbling. He had been unprepared by
hearing Humfrey's account, and, impetuous and affectionate as he was,
was entirely unrestrained, and flinging himself on his knees with the
half-audible words, 'Oh! Lucy! Lucy! He is as good as dead!' hid
his face between his arms on his sister's lap, and sobbed with the
abandonment of a child, and with all his youthful strength; so much
adding to the consternation and confusion, that, finding all Lucy's
gentle entreaties vain, his father at last roughly pulled up his face by
main force, and said, 'Philip, hold your tongue! Are we to have you on
our hands as well as my Lady? I shall send you home this moment! Let
your sister go.'

This threat reduced the boy to silence. Lucy, who was wanted to assist
in preparing Berenger's room, disengaged herself; but he remained in
the same posture, his head buried on the seat of the chair, and the
loud weeping only forcibly stifled by forcing his handkerchief into
his mouth, as if he had been in violent bodily pain. Nor did he venture
again to look up as the cause of all his distress was slowly carried
into the hall, corpse-like indeed. The bearers had changed several
times, all but a tall, fair Norman youth, who through the whole transit
had supported the head, endeavouring to guard it from shocks. When the
mother and the rest came forward, he made a gesture to conceal the face,
saying in French, 'Ah! Mesdames; this is no sight for you.'

Indeed the head and face were almost entirely hidden by bandages, and
it was not till Berenger had been safely deposited on a large carved
bed that the anxious relatives were permitted to perceive the number
and extent of his hurts; and truly it was only by the breath, the vital
warmth, and the heavy moans when he was disturbed, or the dressings of
the wounds were touched, that showed him still to be a living man.
There proved to be no less than four wounds--a shot through the right
shoulder, the right arm also