Even after that he hung an instant trying to meet the Countess's eyes, despair in his own; but it was not to be.

She had turned her head, and was looking back, as if thence only and not from him could help come.
It was not to him she turned; and he saw it, and the justice of it.

And silent, grim, more formidable even than old Badelon, the veteran fighter, who knew all the tricks and shifts of the _melee_, he spurred to the flank of the line.
"Now, steady!" Badelon cried again, seeing that the enemy were beginning to move.

"Steady! Ha! Thank God, my lord! My lord is coming! Stand! Stand!" The distant sound of galloping hoofs had reached his ear in the nick of time.

He stood in his stirrups and looked back.