Well, some of those vagabonds, that strip the dead soldier on the field of glory, came and took every rag off me; they wrought me no further ill, because there was no need." "No; you were dead." "C'est convenu.

This must have been at sundown; and with the night came a shrewd frost that barkened the blood on my wounds, and stopped all the rivulets that were running from my heart, and about midnight I awoke as from a trance.' "And thought you were in heaven ?" asked Gerard eagerly, being a youth inoculated with monkish tales.
"Too frost-bitten for that, mon gars; besides, I heard the wounded groaning on all sides, so I knew I was in the old place.

I saw I could not live the night through without cover.

I groped about shivering and shivering; at last one did suddenly leave groaning.

'You are sped,' said I, so made up to him, and true enough he was dead, but warm, you know.
I took my lord in my arms, but was too weak to carry him, so rolled with him into a ditch hard by; and there my comrades found me in the morning properly stung with nettles, and hugging a dead Fleming for the bare life." Gerard shuddered.