Hardly a word passed between us.  We were angry, and ashamed; we had met with a bitter defeat; our leader was down, and no man knew even if he lived.

“Where is the Admiral?” I asked at last of the horseman at my side; “we must find the Admiral.”

“I cannot say, but it is certain that when the news reaches him he will retreat”; then he relapsed into silence.

It was a dreary journey.  We wandered on aimlessly and hopelessly for hours, and night had long since fallen when, by some lucky chance, we stumbled upon our infantry.  We were not the first fugitives to arrive, and the camp was full of excitement.

I made my way straight to the Admiral’s tent, and was instantly admitted.  Several officers were already there, eagerly discussing the news, and they plied me with anxious questions.  I could, however, tell them nothing fresh, and could throw no light on the fate of the Prince.

In the midst of the interview an officer brought in a wounded trooper.  He was weak and faint from loss of blood, and, gallantly as he had held himself in the fray, he hung his head shamefacedly.

“You are from Jarnac?” said Coligny kindly; “can you tell us what has happened to your general?”

Every voice was hushed; the silence became painful as we listened with straining ears for the man’s reply.  Steadying himself, he gave his answer, and a deep groan burst from the assembled officers.

“The Prince is dead, my lord,” he said slowly.

“Dead!” echoed our leader.  “Killed in the battle?”

“Murdered in cold blood after the battle, my lord!”

“How?” cried Coligny, and never had I seen his face look so stern.  “Think well, my man, before speaking.  This is a serious statement to make.”

“But a true one, my lord.  I was not a yard away when the deed was done.”

“Tell us all about it,” said the Admiral, “for if this be true——­” but here he checked himself.

“The Prince’s horse fell, my lord, and he was thrown heavily.  I tried to reach him, but failed.”

“’Tis plain that you made a most gallant attempt!” remarked Coligny in kindly tones.

“I was knocked down, my lord, and I suppose thought to be dead!  The Prince lay a yard or so away.  He had taken off his helmet, and was talking to one of the enemy’s officers.  I heard him say, ’D’Argence, save my life and I will give you a hundred thousand crowns!”

“And what was the answer?”

“The officer promised, my lord, but just afterwards a fresh body of soldiers came galloping to that part of the field.  Then the Prince said, ‘There is Monseigneur’s troop; I am a dead man!’”

“And what answered D’Argence?”

“He said, ‘No, my lord, cover your face, and I will yet save you.’  But he had not the chance.  One of Monseigneur’s officers”—­we learned afterwards that it was Montesquieu, the captain of the Swiss guard—­“shot the Prince in the back of the head!”