"I am Colonel Campbell, Baron de la Villar," Hector replied, "and
have the honour to command his majesty's regiment of Poitou."

"Your name is not French," the lady said.

"No, madam, I am a Scotchman."

"Then," the lady said, speaking in English, "I must claim you as a
countryman, for I am Irish. My husband was an officer in the army
of the Duke of Lorraine; he was killed in a skirmish four years
ago, and a year later I married the Baron of Blenfoix, and was
again widowed at the battle of Freiburg, where my husband, who
had followed the fortunes of the Duke of Lorraine, his feudal lord,
fell fighting by the side of General Merci. This is my daughter
Norah. But I see that you are wounded," she went on as Hector bowed
to the young lady.

"Not seriously, madam; but I feel somewhat faint from loss of blood,
and will remove my helmet. As it turned out," he went on somewhat
faintly, "it was unfortunate that I did not put on my body armour;
but I had not anticipated hard fighting, and preferred to ride
without it. Thanks for your offer, lady, but my men will see to
me, they are all of them pretty well accustomed to the bandaging
of wounds."

He was now, indeed, almost too faint to stand, and Paolo and Nicholl
seated him against a battlement, and then proceeded to take off
his upper garments and examine his wounds. They were all at the
back of the shoulder, as his assailants, pressed closely against