He had been laid upon the floor, as the most seriously wounded of the combatants, though being the least in honour he fell to be attended last.
Instantly he cried out a strange Breton word, unintelligible to all present, and, leaping from the floor, he flung himself across the body of his master, dashing aside the astonished apothecary, who had only time to discern on the marshal's shoulder the scar of a recent cautery before Poitou had restored the leathern under-doublet to its place.
"Hands off! Do not touch my master.

I alone can bring him to.

Leave the room, all of you." "Sirrah!" cried the Earl, sternly, striding towards him, "I will teach you to speak humbly to more honourable men." "My lord," cried Poitou, instantly recalled to himself, "believe me, I meant no ill.

But true it is that I only can recover him.

I have often seen him taken thus.