De Gamache had his horse beside him, his arm slipped through the reins.
"My brave General," he said, as the Maid looked in his face, "let me lift you to my saddle and convey you to a place of safety.

I have done you wrong before; but I pray you forgive me, and bear no malice; for I am yours till death.

Never was woman so brave." "I should be wrong indeed to bear malice against any, my good friend," spoke the Maid, in her gentle tones, "above all against one so courteous, so brave." We lifted her upon the horse.

We formed a bodyguard round her.

We drew her out of the thick of the press, for once unresisting; and we laid her down in a little adjacent vineyard, where the good Pasquerel came instantly, and knelt beside her offering prayers for her recovery.