It seemed that she whispered to him.
Redwood would have gone towards them.
"Presently," said Cossar.

"First there is your message." "Yes," said Redwood, "but--" He stopped.

His son was now looking up and speaking to the Princess, but in too low a tone for them to hear.

Young Redwood raised his face, and she bent down towards him, and glanced aside before she spoke.
"But if we are beaten," they heard the whispered voice of young Redwood.
She paused, and the red blaze showed her eyes bright with unshed tears.
She bent nearer him and spoke still lower.

There was something so intimate and private in their bearing, in their soft tones, that Redwood--Redwood who had thought for two whole days of nothing but his son--felt himself intrusive there.