For The Admiral Part 18

"But what of your prisoner?" he asked. "Has he given his parole?"

"No, I fancy he is rather counting on the chance of escape."

"Then he must be placed under guard. I will attend to it, and return in a few minutes. Well, Jacques, has your master been very troublesome?"

"Not since we left Limoges, monsieur."

We were preparing to look for Roger when the bugles sounded, the men sprang to arms, and orders were issued for the retreat to be resumed.

"I don't like this," grumbled Felix, "it breaks the men's spirits. Our rearguard came running in to-day like a parcel of sheep. I wish the Admiral would fight; it will be too late after a while. It is not pleasant to be chased as if we were rabbits."

The royalists were in full view now, and the faster we marched the more closely they pressed the pursuit. It was very galling, and many a murmur was heard even against our n.o.ble leader, but none from those who rode with him in the rear. Twice we turned and faced the enemy, but, on each occasion, after a few minutes' conflict the order was issued for further retreat.

At length we reached the summit of a gentle slope, behind which flowed the River Dive. Here it seemed as if the Admiral intended to make a stand, but the royalists gave him little leisure for forming plans. They advanced boldly, taunting us for runaways, and bidding us muster sufficient courage to cross swords with them.

A volley from our German foot-soldiers checked their rush, and, while they were endeavouring to re-form, a body of horse crashed, as if shot from a gun, into their left flank. The n.o.ble St. Cyr, erect and soldierly, in spite of his four score and five years, led the charge, and a rousing cheer broke from us at sight of the gallant veteran.

But there was little time for cheering. "Charge, my children!" cried the Admiral, "charge, and strike home! For the Faith!"

"For the Faith!" we echoed l.u.s.tily, spurring our horses, and das.h.i.+ng into the fray.

Hammered by St. Cyr on the left, by the Admiral in front, by the young princes on the right, the royalist horse reeled and staggered. Again and again they tried to rally; but we rode them down, broke the groups as soon as they re-formed, drove them pell-mell on to their infantry, and then with one grand rush tumbled the whole division into ruin.

"Forward! Forward!" cried the hot-bloods. "Remember Jarnac!" "Remember Conde!" "Cut them down!"

But a wild pursuit formed no part of the Admiral's plans; he wished to cross the river unmolested, so the bugles were sounded, and we came dropping back, laughing and cheering, and in high spirits at our brilliant little victory. As with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes we ranged ourselves around our brave leader some one cried out, "See, what is going on over yonder!"

In a corner of the field, some distance off, a number of royalists had rallied round a flag. Something strange was happening; the flag disappeared, came into view again, and once more sank from sight. Then in one spot the crowd gave way as if burst asunder, and out from the gap leaped a horseman. He was carrying the flag, and he rode straight toward us. A dozen men started in pursuit, but he outdistanced them easily, turning from time to time and waving the flag as if in derision.

We gazed in astonishment at the spectacle, wondering what it meant, until Felix cried out, "'Tis the Englishman! 'Tis Roger Braund. He has captured the flag!"

A great roar of cheering went up as he approached us, his helmet gone, his face bleeding, his doublet slashed, but his eyes smiling cheerfully.

With an easy grace he jumped from his horse, and advancing on foot presented the trophy to the Admiral.

"A memento of the battle-field, my lord," he said, with a courteous bow.

Coligny took the flag, and with a rare smile handed it back, saying, "Monsieur, it could not remain in worthier hands! Let it be carried in the ranks of your gallant countrymen, to whom we owe so much."

Roger bowed again. "The memory of your praise my lord," said he, "will nerve us to deserve it."

As we rode back toward the river, every one tried to get near him, to shake his hand, to praise him for his deed of daring. And in truth it was a splendid action! Single-handed, he had charged into the press; single-handed he had wrested the trophy by from its custodian; and, still alone, had fought his way out. It was a brilliant feat, which we of the Religion talked of round many a camp fire. And that it was done by one who was not our countryman did not lessen our admiration.

CHAPTER XI

A Desperate Conflict

WE had crossed the Dive safely, the cavalry last of all, and the soldiers, wearied by their long marches, had thrown themselves down to s.n.a.t.c.h a brief rest. The enemy were a.s.sembling on the opposite bank of the river, and it was plain that they had been heavily reinforced.

"Monseigneur must have arrived with his troops," said Felix. "I hope the Admiral will offer him battle. The victory over Montpensier has put our fellows in fine fettle; they would fight now with a good heart."

"The enemy have us at a disadvantage," said Roger. "You forget our guns are at Montcontour."

A surgeon had dressed his wounds; he had borrowed a helmet from a comrade, and had changed his doublet. His left arm troubled him somewhat, but otherwise he suffered no ill effects from his famous fight for the flag.

"They outnumber us, too," said I, "especially in their cavalry, and Anjou's gentlemen are no mean sworders."

"But we must fight at some time or other; we cannot wander about the country for ever!" laughed Felix. "It seems to me we have been playing at hide-and-seek with Anjou ever since leaving Poictiers. And let me whisper another thing--the Germans are beginning to grumble."

"That," said Roger, "is a serious matter. What is their grievance?"

"Money! Their pay has fallen into arrears, and I don't see how it is to be made up. The Admiral has almost ruined himself for the Cause already.

'Tis a pity we cannot capture Anjou's money chests; they would be worth having. _Corbleu_! the bugle is sounding! That means there is to be no battle."

"Monseigneur may have something to say to that," remarked Roger, as he walked off toward his own comrades.

In a short time the troops had fallen in, and the infantry at a swinging pace marched off the ground, the cavalry as before forming the rearguard. The evening was neither clear nor dull, there being just sufficient light to enable us to see our way. St. Cyr's troop, and the body of Englishmen, now, alas! sadly reduced in numbers, rode last of all, and occasionally one of the troopers would gallop up to our leader with information of the enemy's movements.

We appeared to have gained a good start, as it was not until noon of the next day that our rearguard was driven in, and we got a clear view of the hostile troops. They followed us closely, hanging like leeches on our rear, but refraining from making any determined attack. Still, in order to protect our own main body, we were forced several times to turn at bay. In these combats the fiercest fighting always centred round the troop of Englishmen carrying the captured flag.

"Roger is a gallant fellow," I remarked after one of these occasions, "but too venturesome. It would be more prudent to hide the trophy."

"Faith!" cried Felix, "you have strange ideas! I would hold it as high as I could, till my arm was numbed. I hear they have hung our banners in Notre Dame, so that the Parisians may see what fine fellows they are. If I could capture a flag, Edmond, they should cut me in little pieces before I let it go. Were I your English friend I would not change places with Coligny himself."

"Well," I said laughing, "you may have a chance to obtain your wish soon, for, whether it pleases our leaders or not, they will be compelled to fight. This retreat cannot continue much longer. And if the Germans desert us, there is likely to be a second Jarnac."

"Rubbis.h.!.+" exclaimed he lightly; "we should gain the greater honour by the victory!"

Our German allies had become very sullen during the last day or two, and the evening we reached Montcontour they broke out into open threats.

They declared angrily that unless their arrears of pay were immediately made up they would not fight.

The evening was almost as miserable as that after the battle of Jarnac.

Monseigneur, with a strong, well-equipped army, was close on our heels, ready to swoop down upon us at any moment. Our own men were weary and disheartened, and now we had to contend with the anger of our allies.

"Let the poltroons go!" exclaimed Felix scornfully. "We will fight and win without them," and all the young hot-heads among our comrades applauded him. But the veterans were wiser, and openly showed their pleasure when it was announced that our leader had, by another splendid sacrifice, appeased his mutinous followers. But, even with the Germans ready to do their duty, our prospects seemed to me far from rosy, and I found that Roger Braund held the same view.

"Whether we fight or retreat," said he, "in my opinion the situation is equally desperate."

"The Council has decided to give battle," exclaimed Felix, who had just come from the Admiral's tent.

"Then a good many of us are spending our last evening on earth,"

observed Roger calmly.

"We must take our chance," said Felix; "every battle levies its toll; but I can see no more danger here than at Roche Abeille. Do you think our fellows have lost heart?"