From the brow of the hill I had a clear view of the wide plain stretching before me.  Huddled together in one corner was the cluster of houses forming the village of Jarnac, where I intended to break my journey.  Presently, however, I caught sight of something which put all thought of food and rest out of my head.  A body of cavalry had halted on the plain.  Some of the men were lying down, some drinking from the brook, but scouts were stationed at a distance from the main body to give warning of any hostile approach.

“This is either Anjou or Conde,” I thought, “and in any case it is necessary to discover which.”

Still leading my horse, I crept down the hill, and advanced some distance across the plain, ready directly danger threatened to mount and ride.  As soon, however, as I drew close enough to distinguish the scouts I saw they were friends, and went on boldly.

Where was Coligny?  They did not know; they had parted company with the infantry some time previously.  Leaving them, I proceeded to the main body, and in passing a group of cavaliers, heard my name called by a voice I recognized as Roger Braund’s.

“Why are you wandering about here?” he asked.

“Faith,” I laughed, “I might put that very same question to you!  Where are Coligny and the troops?  I did not expect to meet with half an army.”

“Say, rather, a third; we have not a gun, nor even a man to carry a pike.”

“But what does it mean?”

“Perhaps that I don’t understand your mode of warfare.  We have been marching and countermarching for hours, with no other result as yet than wearing out our animals; but I warrant the Prince has his reasons.”

“If there is a man with brains in the enemy’s council,” said another Englishman, “we shall rejoin our infantry only in the next world.  We are scarcely fifteen hundred strong, and I heard this morning that Anjou has at least three thousand.”

“Two to one,” I remarked carelessly, “the Prince has fought against even heavier odds.  But——­”

“Mount, mount, messieurs; Anjou is advancing!”

The scouts came galloping in with their warning; the cry was repeated on all sides; men running to their horses mounted hurriedly; officers shouted commands; in an instant all was activity.

“You showed little wisdom in stumbling on us to-day,” said Roger.  “You would have been better off with your own leader.”

“At least I make one more!”

“Yes,” he replied, “and a pity too.  But come along, you will ride with us, and I promise we will not disgrace you.  A fair field for a charge, Edward!” addressing one of his comrades.

“I would rather it were a pitched battle,” replied the other; “with our numbers we can do no more than ride them down.”

“The Prince!  The Prince!” cried one, and presently Conde came riding along our ranks.  He had opened his helmet; his face was full of high resolve, his eyes flashed fire.