"I yield me true prisoner, rescue or no rescue," he said, in a tone so startling in its agony that the rudest heart beside him shrunk within itself appalled, and for a minute Lancaster checked the words upon his lips.
"Nay, nay, yield not in such tone, my gallant foe!" he said, with eager courtesy, and with his own hand aiding him to rise.

"Would that I were the majesty of England, I should deem myself debased did I hold such gallantry in durance.

Of a truth, thou hast robbed me of my conquest, fair sir, for it was no skill of mine which brought thee to the ground.
I may thank that shrieking mad woman, perchance, for the preservation of my laurels." "I give you thanks for your courtesy, my lord," replied Sir Nigel, striving to recover himself; "but I pray you pardon me, if I beseech you let that falling mass be cleared at once, and note if that unhappy woman breathes.

Methought," he added, in stronger agitation, "she carried something in her arms." "She did," answered many voices; "some child or girl, who was struggling, though the head was muffled up as if to prevent all sounds." "See to it, and bring us news of what you find," said Lancaster, hastily, for the same ghastly expression passed over the countenance of his prisoner as had startled him at first.

"Thou art not well, my good lord ?" he continued kindly.
"Nay, I am well, my lord; but I will go with you," replied the young knight, slowly, as if collecting strength ere he could speak.