For The Admiral - Part 14
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Part 14

"He just had strength to say, 'Now I trust you are content!'" replied the trooper, "and then he fell forward dead. They wrapped his body in a sheet and carried it off the field, but I do not know where."

"There is no possible chance of your having been mistaken?"

"None, my lord."

The chaplain, stepping forward, led the trooper from the tent to give him some food, and to bind up his wounds, while every one began discussing the mournful story he had told. In the midst of the talk I slipped out, eager to a.s.sure Felix of my safety, and to learn if Roger Braund had returned.

No one in the camp thought of sleep or rest; the soldiers had gathered together in knots, asking and answering questions, while from time to time a single horseman, or half a dozen in a body, trailed wearily into the lines. I met Felix coming toward the tent, and on seeing me he ran forward hastily.

"Is it really you, Edmond?" he cried; "are you hurt? How came you to be in the fight? One of the Englishmen told me you were there. 'Tis a sorry beginning to the campaign, eh? But, after all, 'tis but one dark spot on the sun. Come to our tent and tell us what has happened. There are a thousand rumours."

"Is Roger Braund not with his comrades?" I asked.

"No; there are a good many of the English still missing, but their friends are not anxious; they have lost their way perhaps, and we shall see them in the morning."

As nothing could be done, I accompanied Felix to the tent, where a number of our comrades speedily a.s.sembled. Felix gave me food, as I had eaten nothing for hours, and then I related my story.

"On the plain of Jarnac!" exclaimed one in surprise; "what was the Prince doing there?"

"I cannot say. Remember, I came upon them by mere chance."

"'Twas stupid folly!" exclaimed the speaker. "We aren't so strong that we can afford to divide our forces. Conde's rashness will ruin everything. One would think he was a hot-headed boy!"

"If Conde was in fault, he has paid dearly for his mistake," I remarked, and was greeted by cries of "What do you mean?" "Is the Prince hurt?"

"Is he a prisoner?" "Speak out, Le Blanc!"

"The Prince, gentlemen," I replied slowly, "is dead; and if my account be true, most foully murdered."

"Conde dead!" cried one, "no, no; there must be some strange mistake!"

"I fear not, monsieur!" and, while they listened in breathless silence, I repeated the story which the wounded trooper had brought from the battle-field.

"Anjou shall have cause to rue this day!" said one, speaking with deadly earnestness. "If I meet him on foot or in the saddle, in victory or in defeat, I will not leave the ground till I have plunged my sword into his heart!"

"But Anjou was not the murderer!"

"An officer of his bodyguard, you said. Do you think he acted against his master's wishes? Pshaw! I tell you, Monseigneur is as much the murderer as if his own fingers had pulled the trigger!" and the murmur of applause from all who heard showed how fully they agreed with him.

When they left the tent, to retail the circ.u.mstances of the Prince's death, I was glad to lie down. I was still anxious concerning my English comrade, but Felix, who was too excited to sleep, promised to bring me any information that he could gather. My head ached terribly, but I managed to sleep, and for an hour or two at least I forgot the dismal tragedy that had occurred.

The whole camp was astir in the early morning, and my comrade brought me very welcome news. Roger had arrived during the night, with about a dozen fellow-countrymen, tired out but unwounded.

"I half expected he was dead," I said; "he was in the very thickest of the _melee_."

"Humph!" said Felix, "I warrant he fought with no greater bravery than Edmond Le Blanc! He is a gallant fellow enough, but you need not worship him as a hero."

I looked at my comrade with surprise, and I think he felt rather ashamed of his ungenerous speech, as he continued: "however, he is unhurt, which is the main thing. It seems we have lost quite a number of brave fellows besides Conde at Jarnac."

"I suppose the last of the stragglers are in?"

"Yes, and we strike camp almost immediately. Anjou is very kind to give us breathing time. According to our scouts, he is actually going to lay siege to Cognac."

"He will meet with a warm reception!"

"If the citizens can hold him only for a few weeks," said Felix, "all will go well. We are to be joined by strong reinforcements. The sun will shine again, Edmond."

Making my way through the camp after breakfast I came across Roger, who had Just risen from a brief sleep.

"I did not come to your tent last night," he said; "there was no need to disturb you. You are not much hurt?"

"No, but rather ashamed! We have begun badly."

"And shall therefore make a better ending," said he brightly. "Cheer up, Edmond, there is no disgrace in being beaten by twice our number. Jarnac is not the only field of battle in France."

CHAPTER IX

A Glorious Victory

The steady courage and resolute will of our great leader raised the spirits of every soldier under his command; the disaster at Jarnac became more and more a dream; the retreat to Niort was conducted without the least disorder or confusion. Every one trusted Coligny, and felt that under his rule all would go well.

And, as far as human skill and foresight could prevail, the Admiral deserved our confidence. All through the day, and far into the night, he toiled, and never grew weary; at one time inspecting his troops, at another strengthening his defences; now endeavouring to form some useful alliance, again writing cheerful letters and putting heart into the more timid of our friends.

We had another leader, too, who, though she did not lead us into battle was worth many a troop of horse to the Cause. I shall never forget the day when Joan of Albret, the great-hearted Queen of Navarre, came riding into our camp at Niort, bringing her son, Henry of Beam, and her nephew Henry, the son of the murdered Conde. True and steadfast in the hour of our defeat--more steadfast even than some of those who would ride fearlessly in the wildest charge--she came to prove her unswerving loyalty.

"I offer you my son," said this n.o.ble lady--may her name ever be held in reverence--"who burns with a bold ardour to avenge the death of the Prince we all regret. Behold also Conde's son, now become my own child.

He succeeds to his father's name and glory. Heaven grant that they may both show themselves worthy of their ancestors!"

While she spoke, not another sound broke the silence in all that vast a.s.sembly; but when the echo of the last word had died away, such a shout arose that few have ever heard its like. The whole army cheered and cheered again with one voice; hundreds of swords flashed in the air; men went wild with enthusiasm as they cried, "Long live Joan of Albret! long live the Queen of Navarre!"

When at length silence was restored there rode to the front that gallant youth, Henry of Beam, whose winning manners had already charmed us at Roch.e.l.le. I have seen him since with all the world at his feet, and crowned with victory; but after his most glorious triumph he did not look more n.o.ble than on that memorable day at Niort. He was, as I have said, a splendid horseman, and he managed his fiery charger with exquisite grace and ease. His eyes, usually so sweet, were bright and burning; the hot blood reddened his clear brown skin.

"Soldiers!" he exclaimed--and I would you could have heard the music of his voice--"your cause is mine. I swear to defend our religion, and to persevere until death or victory has restored us the liberty for which we fight."

Once again the thundering cheers pealed forth, and had Monseigneur but met us that day, I warrant he would not have carried a hundred men with him from the field.

"Your Henry of Beam is a gallant youngster, Edmond," remarked Roger Braund that evening; "I would he had been with us at Jarnac!"

"That might have prevented his being here now!"

"True! On the other hand, his presence might have saved the day.

However, he will have an opportunity of showing his mettle. Do we move soon?"

"We are waiting for a body of German foot-soldiers, and for the troops from Languedoc. Directly they arrive, I believe we break camp."