feel for them on the other side of the valley, and that, on pain of being invested, he must not leave the Leaguers any exit but the very road they had taken to come.”  Having changed all his plans on this new system, Henry breathed more freely; but he did not go to sleep for all that:  he was incessantly backwards and forwards from Dieppe to Arques, from Arques to Dieppe and to the Faubourg du Pollet.  Mayenne, on the contrary, seemed to have fallen into a lethargy; he had not yet been out of his quarters during the nearly eight and forty hours since he had taken them.  On the 17th of September, 1589, in the morning, however, a few hundred light-horse were seen putting themselves in motion, scouring the country and coming to fire their pistols close to the fosses of the royal army.  The skirmish grew warm by degrees.  “My son,” said Marshal de Biron to the young count of Auvergne [natural son of Charles IX. and Mary Touchet], “charge:  now is the time.”  The young prince, without his hat, and his horsemen charged so vigorously that they put the Leaguers to the rout, killed three hundred of them, and returned quietly within their lines, by Biron’s orders, without being disturbed in their retreat.  These partial and irregular encounters began again on the 18th and 19th of September, with the same result.  The Duke of Mayenne was nettled and humiliated; he had his prestige to recover.  He decided to concentrate all his forces right on the king’s intrenchments, and attack them in front with his whole army.  The 20th of September passed without a single skirmish.  Henry, having received good information that he would be attacked the next day, did not go to bed.  The night was very dark.  He thought he saw a long way off in the valley a long line of lighted matches; but there was profound silence; and the king and his officers puzzled themselves to decide if they were men or glow-worms.  On the 21st, at five A. M., the king gave orders for every one to be ready and at his post.  He himself repaired to the battle-field.  Sitting in a big fosse with all his officers, he had his breakfast brought thither, and was eating with good appetite, when a prisoner was brought to him, a gentleman of the League, who had advanced too far whilst making a reconnaissance.  “Good day, Belin,” said the king, who recognized him, laughing:  “embrace me for your welcome appearance.”  Belin embraced him, telling him that he was about to have down upon him thirty thousand foot and ten thousand horse.  “Where are your forces?” he asked the king, looking about him.  “O! you don’t see them all, M. de Belin,” said Henry:  “you don’t reckon the good God and the good right, but they are ever with me.”