It did not last long.  By great good fortune the lieutenant found himself one of those surrounding Marshal Tallard.  Amidst a wild burst of applause the gallant Frenchman surrendered, and before he knew well what he was doing, Blackett was leading Tallard’s horse by the bridle.  The lad saw the Duke glance towards him as he dismounted to receive the gallant leader and invite him into his carriage.

The victory was practically won.  There remained only the seventeen battalions in the village of Blenheim, and these, hemmed in on the one side, and bounded by the river on the other, gave little trouble.  The poor fellows, in fact, were unable to stir, and many a man of them sprang into the river in his desperation, only to be hopelessly carried away by the swift current, and drowned.

It was a terrible scene of bloodshed, and it was an untold relief to the Englishmen when their gallant foes in the village gave in.  One French regiment had actually burnt its colours to save them from being taken.

Thus ended the great fight of Blenheim, a fight in which the enemy had lost no fewer than forty out of their sixty thousand men.  The Allies had had fifty thousand troops and had lost eleven thousand of them.  The wonderful renown of the French army had received a mighty blow.  No longer could Louis boast that his troops were invincible.

To Marlborough the victory brought the royal manor of Woodstock and the palace of Blenheim.  To the humble Matthew Blackett it gave a place near the great Duke’s own person, as we have seen.

CHAPTER VIII

COMRADES IN ARMS

It was always a puzzle to George Fairburn that the Duke had so unexpectedly assigned him to a cavalry regiment, and his friend Lieutenant Blackett could not help with the solution.

“I suppose it was just an accident,” Matthew said with a laugh; “he saw a horse-soldier before him in the person of your servant here, and so turned you over to me.  I’m mighty delighted, anyhow, that we are thrown together.  We shall have a good time of it, I feel sure.”

“We shall, if there’s plenty to do,” George assented with a smile.

There was plenty to do.  At the very moment when the boy and Lieutenant Fieldsend arrived, the Duke had given orders to prepare for another long march, and within a couple of days George found himself one of a large body of troops heading for the Rhine valley.  A halt was called before Landau, and the siege of this stronghold began.  The affair proved to be a slow business, the attacking force being very short of military material.  Days passed; the fortress stood firm, no apparent impression being made at all.

“I dare wager the Duke won’t stand cooling at this job,” remarked Matthew to George and Fieldsend one evening.  The latter with his regiment was assisting in the siege, and he had already taken a great liking for Matthew Blackett, a liking Matthew was not slow to reciprocate.