"Water--for the love of God!" he gasped, to add in a groan, "Je me meurs, monsieur." Assisted by a couple of knaves, Ganymede went about attending to the rebel at once.

Handling him as carefully as might be, to avoid giving him unnecessary pain they removed his back-and-breast, which was flung with a clatter into one of the corners of the barn.

Then, whilst one of them gently drew off his boots, Rodenard, with the lanthorn close beside him, cut away the fellow's doublet, and laid bare the oozing sword-wound that gaped in his mangled side.

He whispered an order to Gilles, who went swiftly off to the coach in quest of something that he had asked for; then he sat on his heels and waited, his hand upon the man's pulse, his eyes on his face.
I stooped until my lips were on a level with my intendant's ear.
"How is it with him ?" I inquired.
"Dying," whispered Rodenard in answer.

"He has lost too much blood, and he is probably bleeding inwardly as well.