“Right, good Poleyn; thy words do thee credit.  And where are these gallant leaders?  Show me them, for I would fain speak a kindly word to them.  I would not that they feared my father’s wrath too much.  Stern he may be, but cruel never, and it would please me well to bid them submit themselves to him, that he might the more readily forgive them.  Tell me which they be.”

“They are not here,” answered the captain; “I had them removed for greater comfort and security to mine own lodging.  One of them is so sore wounded that I feared he would not live to make submission to the king unless he had prompt and skilful tendance; whilst the other, although his hurts be fewer and less severe, looks as if some mortal sickness were upon him.  It may be nought but the feebleness that follows loss of blood and hard fighting; but I left them both to the care of my wife, who is the best tender of the sick that I have ever known.  They came under her hands last night, brought on by our mounted fellows in advance of the rest.  Today they are somewhat recovered; but I have had scarce time to think of them.  I have been occupied since dawn with these other prisoners.”

“I would fain see these youths; said you not they were but youths, Poleyn?” said Alphonso, whose interest was aroused by the tale he had heard.  “I will go to your lodging and request admittance.  Your worthy wife will not refuse me, I trow?”

The man smiled, and said that his wife would be proud indeed to be so visited.  Alphonso, to whom the intricacies of the castle were well known, lost no time in finding the lodging of the captain of the guard, and quickly obtained admittance to the presence of the wounded youths, who occupied a comfortable chamber over the gateway, and had plainly been well looked to by the capable and kindly woman who called Poleyn her lord and master.

The bright light of day was excluded from the sickroom, and as the prince stood in the doorway his eyes only took in the general appearance of two recumbent figures, one lying upon a couch beside a glowing fire of wood, and the other extended motionless upon a bed in an attitude that bespoke slumber, his face bandaged in such a way that in no case would it have been recognizable.

But as Alphonso’s eyes grew used to the darkness, and fixed themselves upon the face of the other youth, who was dressed and lying on the couch, he suddenly gave a great start, and advanced with quick steps to his side.

“Griffeth!” he cried suddenly.

The figure on the couch gave a start, a pair of hollow eyes flashed open, there was a quick attempt to rise, checked by the prince himself, and Griffeth exclaimed in the utmost astonishment: 

“Prince Alphonso!”

“Yes, Griffeth, it is I indeed;” and then the prince sat down on the edge of the couch and gazed intently at the wasted features of the youth, towards whom in days gone by he had felt such a strong attachment.