His sword was gone; his dress was torn and disordered and covered with dust.

His lips moved.

But he held up his head, he bore himself bravely with it all; so bravely, that I choked, and my heart seemed bursting as I looked at him standing there forlorn and now unarmed.

I knew that Kit seeing him thus would gladly have died with him; and I thanked God she did not see him.

Yet there was a quietness in his fortitude which made a great difference between his air and that of Bezers.