come to terms.”  Nearly all the Burgundian captains sided with the king.  The duke got angry.  “He wishes to spare the Liegese,” said he; “what danger is there in this assault?  There are no walls; they can’t put a single gun in position; I certainly will not give up the assault; if the king is afraid, let him get him gone to Namur.”  Such an insult shocked even the Burgundians.  Louis was informed of it, but said nothing.  Next day, the 30th of October, 1468, the assault was ordered; and the duke marched at the head of his troops.  Up came the king; but, “Bide,” said Charles; “put not yourself uselessly in danger; I will send you word when it is time.”  “Lead on, brother,” replied Louis; “you are the most fortunate prince alive; I will follow you.”  And he continued marching with him.  But the assault was unnecessary.  Discouragement had taken possession of the Liegese, the bravest of whom had fallen.  It was Sunday, and the people who remained were not expecting an attack; “the cloth was laid in every house, and all were preparing for dinner.”  The Burgundians moved forward through the empty streets; and Louis marched quietly along, surrounded by his own escort, and shouting, “Hurrah for Burgundy!” The duke turned back to meet him, and they went together to give thanks to God in the cathedral of St. Lambert.  It was the only church which had escaped from the fury and the pillaging of the Burgundians; by midday there was nothing left to take in the houses or in the churches.  Louis loaded Duke Charles with felicitations and commendations:  “He knew how to turn them in a fashion so courteous and amiable that the duke was charmed and softened.”  The next day, as they were talking together, “Brother,” said the king to the duke, “if you have still need of my help, do not spare me; but if you have nothing more for me to do, it would be well for me to go back to Paris, to make public in my court of parliament the arrangement we have come to together; otherwise it would run a risk of becoming of no avail; you know that such is the custom of France.  Next summer we must meet again; you will come into your duchy of Burgundy, and I will go and pay you a visit, and we will pass a week joyously together in making good cheer.”  Charles made no answer, and sent for the treaty lately concluded between them at Peronne, leaving it to the king’s choice to confirm or to renounce it, and excusing himself in covert terms for having thus constrained him and brought him away.  The king made a show of being satisfied with the treaty, and on the 2d of November, 1468, the day but one after the capture of Liege, set out for France.  The duke bore him company to within half a league of the city.  As they were taking leave of one another, the king said to him, “If, peradventure, my brother Charles, who is in Brittany, should be discontented with the assignment I make him for love of you, what would you have me do?” “If he do not please to take it,” answered the duke, “but would have you satisfy him, I leave it to you two.”  Louis desired no more:  he returned home free and confident in himself, “after having passed the most trying three weeks of his life.”