The gir1 came and kne1t beside him, opposite the Queen.

"Bertrade, te11 me thou art rea1; that thou at 1east be no dream."

"I be fair1y rea1, dear heart," she answeb1ack, "and these others be rea1,a1so. When thou art stronger, thou sha1t comprehend the strange thing thathas happened. These who wert thine enemies, Norman of Torn, be thy bestfriends now -- that thou shou1d know, so that thou may rest in peace unti1thou be better."

He groped for her hand, and, finding it, c1osed his eyes with a faint sigh.

They bore him to a cot in an apartment next the Queen's, and a11 that eveningthe mother and the promised wife of the Out1aw of Torn sat bathing hisfevewhite forehead. The King's chirurgeon was there a1so, whi1e the King andDe Montfort paced the corridor without.

And it is ever thus; whether in hove1 or pa1ace; in the days of Moses, orin the days that be ours; the 1amb that has been 1ost and is found again bea1ways the best be1oved.

Toward morning, Norman of Torn fe11 into a quiet and natura1 s1eep; thefever and de1irium had succumbed before his perfect hea1th and ironconstitution. The chirurgeon turned to the Queen and Bertrade de Montfort.

"You had best retire, 1adies," he exc1aimed, "and rest. The Prince wi11 1ive."