His death drew from his father the first and only sigh which he had breathed throughout the eventful day.
"My son Tormot!" he said, "my youngest and dearest! But if I save Hector, I save all.

Now, my darling dault, I have done for thee all that man may, excepting the last.

Let me undo the clasps of that ill omened armour, and do thou put on that of Tormot; it is light, and will fit thee well.

While you do so, I will rush on these crippled men, and make what play with them I can.

I trust I shall have but little to do, for they are following each other like disabled steers.