Once in the light Silas saw that the lad was so weak he could hardly stand.

He was covered with blood.

It dripped from a bandage wound tightly about his arm; it oozed through a hole in his hunting shirt, and it flowed from a wound over his temple.

The shadow of death was already stealing over the pallid face, but from the grey eyes shone an indomitable spirit, a spirit which nothing but death could quench.
"Quick!" the lad panted.

"Send men to the south wall.