Chapter 26

What! fair and young-, and faithful too?
A miracle if this be true.
WALLER.

Rose, by nature one of the most disinterested and affectionate
maidens that ever breathed, was the first who, hastily considering
the peculiar condition in which her lady was placed, and the
marked degree of restraint which had hitherto characterized her
intercourse with her youthful guardian, became anxious to know how
the wounded knight was to be disposed of; and when she came to
Eveline's side for the purpose of asking this important question,
her resolution well-nigh failed her.

The appearance of Eveline was indeed such as might have made it
almost cruelty to intrude upon her any other subject of anxious
consideration than those with which her mind had been so lately
assailed, and was still occupied. Her countenance was as pale as
death could have made it, unless where it was specked with drops
of blood; her veil, torn and disordered, was soiled with dust and
with gore; her hair, wildly dishevelled, fell in, elf-locks on her
brow and shoulders, and a single broken and ragged feather, which
was all that remained of her headgear, had been twisted among her
tresses and still flowed there, as if in mockery, rather than
ornament. Her eyes were fixed on the litter where Damian was
deposited, and she rode close beside it, without apparently
wasting a thought on any thing, save the danger of him who was
extended there.

Rose plainly saw that her lady was under feelings of excitation,
which might render it difficult for her to take a wise and prudent
view of her own situation. She endeavoured gradually to awaken her
to a sense of it. "Dearest lady," said Rose, "will it please you
to take my mantle?"

"Torment me not," answered Eveline, with some sharpness in her
accent.

"Indeed, my lady," said Dame Gillian, bustling up as one who
feared her functions as mistress of the robes might be interfered
with--"indeed, my lady, Rose Flammock speaks truth; and neither
your kirtle nor your gown are sitting as they should do; and, to
speak truth, they are but barely decent. And so, if Rose will turn
herself, and put her horse out of my way," continued the tire-
woman, "I will put your dress in better order in the sticking in
of a bodkin, than any Fleming of them all could do in twelve
hours."

"I care not for my dress," replied Eveline, in the same manner as
before.

"Care then for your honour--for your fame," said Rose, riding
close to her mistress, and whispering in her ear; "think, and that
hastily, how you are to dispose of this wounded young man."

"To the castle," answered