A gentle smile hovered around his pale lips, and when he tried to raise his head Elizabeth helped him, pressing it gently to her breast.
The feeble lips moved and Lopez raised his eyes to her face, as if to thank her, saying in a low voice: "The arrow--don't touch it....
Elizabeth--Ruth, we have clung together faithfully, but now--I shall leave you alone, I must leave you." He paused, a shadow clouded his eyes, and the lids slowly fell.

But he soon raised them again, and fixing his glance steadily on the count, said: "Hear me, my Lord; a dying man should be heard, even if he is a Jew.
See! This is my wife, and this my child.

They are Christians.

They will soon be alone in the world, deserted, orphaned.

The smith is their only friend.