For The Admiral Part 13

"Faith," I laughed, "I might put that very same question to you! Where are Coligny and the troops? I did not expect to meet with half an army."

"Say, rather, a third; we have not a gun, nor even a man to carry a pike."

"But what does it mean?"

"Perhaps that I don't understand your mode of warfare. We have been marching and countermarching for hours, with no other result as yet than wearing out our animals; but I warrant the Prince has his reasons."

"If there is a man with brains in the enemy's council," said another Englishman, "we shall rejoin our infantry only in the next world. We are scarcely fifteen hundred strong, and I heard this morning that Anjou has at least three thousand."

"Two to one," I remarked carelessly, "the Prince has fought against even heavier odds. But----"

"Mount, mount, messieurs; Anjou is advancing!"

The scouts came galloping in with their warning; the cry was repeated on all sides; men running to their horses mounted hurriedly; officers shouted commands; in an instant all was activity.

"You showed little wisdom in stumbling on us to-day," said Roger. "You would have been better off with your own leader."

"At least I make one more!"

"Yes," he replied, "and a pity too. But come along, you will ride with us, and I promise we will not disgrace you. A fair field for a charge, Edward!" addressing one of his comrades.

"I would rather it were a pitched battle," replied the other; "with our numbers we can do no more than ride them down."

"The Prince! The Prince!" cried one, and presently Conde came riding along our ranks. He had opened his helmet; his face was full of high resolve, his eyes flashed fire.

"Gentlemen!" he exclaimed, "here is the chance for which we have waited.

Let us begin the campaign with a victory, and we shall finish it the sooner."

We greeted his words with a cheer; the English shouted "Hurrah!" which sounded strangely in our ears, and every one gripped his sword firmly.

For, in spite of cheers, and of brave looks, a desperate enterprise lay before us. Monseigneur's troops were at least twice as numerous as ours, and his men were seasoned soldiers.

But Conde gave us little time for reflection. "Forward! Forward!" We rose in our stirrups, and with a ringing cheer dashed at the foe. Like a wall of rock they stood, and our front rank went down before them. We withdrew a s.p.a.ce, and once more sprang forward, but with the same result. The din was terrific; steel clashed against steel; horses neighed, men groaned in agony, or shouted in triumph.

And presently, above the tumult, we heard Conde's voice ringing high and clear, "To me, gentlemen! To me!"

He was in the thick of the press, cutting a pa.s.sage for himself, while numbers of his bodyguard toiled after him.

"To the Prince!" cried Roger Braund in stentorian tones, "or he is lost!"

We tore our way like a parcel of madmen, striking right and left in blind fury, and not pausing to parry a blow. But the enemy surged round us like waves in a storm. They hammered us in front, in the rear, on both flanks; we fell apart into groups, each group fighting strenuously for dear life.

And in the midst of the fearful struggle there rose the ominous cry, "The Prince is down!"

For an instant both sides stood still, and then Roger Braund, crying, "To the rescue!" leaped straight at those in front of him. The n.o.ble band of Englishmen followed, the battle flamed up afresh; renewed cries of "Conde! Conde!" arose, but we listened in vain for the reply of our daring general.

"The Prince is down!" ran mournfully from man to man, and though some fought on with intrepid bravery, the majority were thrown into disorder by their leader's fall.

As for myself, I know not how the latter part of the battle went.

Half-stunned by a heavy blow on my helmet, I clung mechanically to my horse, who carried me out of the press. As soon as my senses returned, I drew rein and gazed across the plain. It presented a melancholy sight.

Here was a little band of wearied troopers spurring hard from the scene of conflict; there a man, dismounted and wounded, staggering along painfully, while some lay in the stillness of death. They had struck their first and last blow.

The battle, if battle it could be called, was over; the victors were busy securing their prisoners; nothing more could be done, and with a heavy heart I turned reluctantly away. Removing my helmet so that the fresh air might blow upon my aching temples, I rode on, picking up a companion here and there, until at last we formed a troop some fifty strong.

Hardly a word pa.s.sed between us. We were angry, and ashamed; we had met with a bitter defeat; our leader was down, and no man knew even if he lived.

"Where is the Admiral?" I asked at last of the horseman at my side; "we must find the Admiral."

"I cannot say, but it is certain that when the news reaches him he will retreat"; then he relapsed into silence.

It was a dreary journey. We wandered on aimlessly and hopelessly for hours, and night had long since fallen when, by some lucky chance, we stumbled upon our infantry. We were not the first fugitives to arrive, and the camp was full of excitement.

I made my way straight to the Admiral's tent, and was instantly admitted. Several officers were already there, eagerly discussing the news, and they plied me with anxious questions. I could, however, tell them nothing fresh, and could throw no light on the fate of the Prince.

In the midst of the interview an officer brought in a wounded trooper.

He was weak and faint from loss of blood, and, gallantly as he had held himself in the fray, he hung his head shamefacedly.

"You are from Jarnac?" said Coligny kindly; "can you tell us what has happened to your general?"

Every voice was hushed; the silence became painful as we listened with straining ears for the man's reply. Steadying himself, he gave his answer, and a deep groan burst from the a.s.sembled officers.

"The Prince is dead, my lord," he said slowly.

"Dead!" echoed our leader. "Killed in the battle?"

"Murdered in cold blood after the battle, my lord!"

"How?" cried Coligny, and never had I seen his face look so stern.

"Think well, my man, before speaking. This is a serious statement to make."

"But a true one, my lord. I was not a yard away when the deed was done."

"Tell us all about it," said the Admiral, "for if this be true----" but here he checked himself.

"The Prince's horse fell, my lord, and he was thrown heavily. I tried to reach him, but failed."

"'Tis plain that you made a most gallant attempt!" remarked Coligny in kindly tones.

"I was knocked down, my lord, and I suppose thought to be dead! The Prince lay a yard or so away. He had taken off his helmet, and was talking to one of the enemy's officers. I heard him say, 'D'Argence, save my life and I will give you a hundred thousand crowns!"

"And what was the answer?"

"The officer promised, my lord, but just afterwards a fresh body of soldiers came galloping to that part of the field. Then the Prince said, 'There is Monseigneur's troop; I am a dead man!'"

"And what answered D'Argence?"

"He said, 'No, my lord, cover your face, and I will yet save you.' But he had not the chance. One of Monseigneur's officers"--we learned afterwards that it was Montesquieu, the captain of the Swiss guard--"shot the Prince in the back of the head!"

"And killed him instantly?"