The Chevalier lay on his cot, his face buried in his arms.

Victor touched him and he stirred.
"It is all right, Paul." Victor threw his sword and baldric into a corner and sat down beside his stricken friend, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

"I have just this moment run De Leviston through the shoulder.

That vicomte is a cool hand.

He put his blade nicely between D'Herouville's ribs.