“Oh the fool！” groaned the Hermit. “Poor， brave little fool. He knows nothing about this work. He’s making no use at all of his shield. His whole side‘s exposed. He hasn’t the faintest idea what to do with his sword. Oh， he‘s remembered it now. He’s waving it wildly about . . . nearlycut his own pony‘s head off， and he will in a moment if he’s not careful. It‘s been knocked out of his hand now. It’s mere murder sending a child into the battle； he can‘t live five minutes. Duck， you fool.oh， he’s down.”
“Killed？” asked three voices breathlessly.
