“Brother,” he said, taking Raymond’s hands in his, and bending tenderly over him, “I am going to leave thee, but only for a time.  I am going to England to find thy Joan, and to tell her that thou art living yet, and how thou hast been robbed of thy token.”

A new light shone suddenly in Raymond’s eyes.  It seemed as though some of the mists of weakness rolled away, leaving to him a clearer comprehension.  He grasped his brother’s hand with greater strength than Gaston believed him to possess, and his lips parted in a flashing smile.

“Thou wilt seek her and find her?  Knowest thou where she is?”

“No; but I will go to seek her.  I shall get news of her at Guildford.  I will to our uncle’s house forthwith.  Sir Hugh Vavasour can easily be found.”

“He has been wandering in foreign lands this long while,” answered Raymond.  “I know not whether he may have returned home.  Gaston, if thou findest her, save her from the Sanghurst.  Tell her that I yet live —­ that for her sake I will live to protect her from that evil man.  He has robbed me of the pledge of her love; I am certain of it.  It was a trinket not worth the stealing, and I had it ever about my neck.  It was taken from me when I was a prisoner and at their mercy, when I did not know what befell me.  He has it —­ I am assured of that —­ and what evil use he may make of it I know not.  Ah, if thou canst but find her ere he can reach her side!”

“I will find her,” answered Gaston, firmly and cheerfully.  “Fear not, Raymond; I have had harder tasks than this to perform ere now.  Be it thy part to shake off this wasting sickness.  I will seek out thy Joan, and will bring her to thy side.  But let her not find thee in such sorry plight.  Thou lookest yet rather a corpse than a man.  Thou wouldst fright her by thy wan looks an she came to thee now.”

Wan and white and wasted did Raymond indeed appear, as though a breath would blow him away.  Upon his face was that faraway, ethereal look of one who has been lingering long beside the portal of another world, and scarce knows to which he belongs.  It sometimes seemed as though the angel song of the unseen realm was oftener heard and understood by him than the voices of those about him.  But the fever cloud was slowly lifting from his brain, and today the first impulse to a real recovery had been given by these few words with his brother.

Raymond’s recollection of past events was coming back to him connectedly, and the thought of Joan acted like a tonic upon him.  For her sake he would live; for her sake he would make a battle for his life.  Had he not vowed himself to her service? and did any woman stand more in need of her lover’s strong arm than the daughter of Sir Hugh Vavasour?