Room was made for them to pass through the crowd; and staggering blindly along, Paul reached a spot where, to his astonishment and relief, his own servant was waiting for him with a horse ready caparisoned.
"To the church, to the church," he whispered as Paul mounted mechanically, holding his still unconscious burden in his arms.
And he made a mute sign of assent; for he knew that within the walls of the church he should find the wretched Margaret, who would have taken sanctuary there at first tidings of defeat.
Silently, and as in a dream, the horsemen passed along, and at last drew rein at the door of the little church, where stood a priest with the Host in his hand, ready, if need be, to stand betwixt the helpless victims of the battle and their fierce pursuers.
He knew Paul's face, he recognized that of the inanimate form he carried in his arms, and he made way for him to pass with a mute sign of blessing.
Paul passed in.

There beside the altar he saw the queen, bowed down by the magnitude of her woe, for she had just heard the first rumour of that terrible tragedy.
As he approached someone spoke to her, and she turned, rose, and came swiftly forward.
"Paul," she said, "Paul--tell me--is it true ?" Paul looked at her with dim eyes.
"I have brought you his wife," he said.

"It was his last charge.
Now I am going back.

They have killed him; let them kill me, too." He placed his helpless burden in the queen's arms, turned, and made a few uncertain steps, and then fell down helplessly.

He had fulfilled his life's purpose in living for the prince; but it was not given to him to die uselessly for him, too..