"She is dead!" he cried, with twisting lips.
"No--you saved us both."
The words came soft and clear, as Eleanor laid her hand upon his
shoulder to quiet him, and watched the change as the agony in his eyes
faded to relief and brightened to peace.
"Thank God!"
He sank upon her arm, for he was much bruised. But her face changed,
too, and she suffered new things, because in her there was good as well
as evil; for as she loved him more than before he had saved her, so she
would give him more, if she might, even to forgetting herself.
And so, for a few moments, she knelt and watched him, heedless of the
people about her, and scarcely seeing a dark man whom she had never
noticed before, and who bent so low that she could not see his face,
quietly loosening his master's collar and then feeling along his arms
and legs for any bone hurt there might be.
"Who are you?" asked the Queen, at last, gently, as to one who was
helping him she loved.
"His man," answered Dunstan, laconically, without looking up.
"Take care of him and bring me word of him," she answered, and from a
wallet she gave him gold, which he took, silently bending his head
still lower in thanks.
He, too, had saved her that day, and knew it, though she did not.
She stood up at last, gathering her mantle round her. Less than ten
minutes had passed since she had thrown up her hand and called to her
ladies to follow her. Since then the world had been in herself and on
fire, leaving no room for other thoughts; but now the crowd had parted
wide, and the King was coming towards her, slow and late, to know
whether she were hurt, for he had seen her ride.
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