It seems little to put down on paper—­how we rode hour after hour, often with insufficient food; how we watched at night, sometimes springing to arms at a false alarm, and more than once having to fight desperately to beat off a surprise attack; but it was a stiff business for those who went through with it.

We were, however, in good spirits, and pushed on steadily day after day, picking up a few recruits here and there to strengthen our army.  The men were sturdy, resolute fellows, full of zeal for the Cause, and ready to lay down their lives for the Admiral, to whom they were devoted.

How wholly dependent we were upon him, in spite of the presence of Prince Henry and young Conde, became plain when he was taken ill at St. Etienne.  The march was stopped abruptly, and for three weeks we waited in fear and doubt, asking ourselves anxiously what would happen if he died.

Even the sanguine Felix admitted that without him the enterprise would result in failure, but fortunately the Admiral recovered, and we resumed our march.

The halt which we were forced to make at St. Etienne had done us considerable service.  Horses and men alike were broken down by fatigue, loss of sleep, and scanty rations, and the long rest had restored their strength.  Shortly before leaving, too, a body of cavalry, fifteen hundred strong, had ridden into camp amidst the acclamations of the assembled troops.

“Now,” said Felix joyously, “Monseigneur can meet us as soon as he likes.”

After leaving St. Etienne we soon discovered that the worst part of the journey was still before us.  Our way lay over rugged crests, and along the edge of steep precipices overhanging gloomy chasms.  Nothing save a few chestnut trees, whose fruit was not yet ripe, grew on that bare, stony ground, while the only animals were small, stunted sheep, and mountain goats.

Here and there we passed a tiny hamlet, but for the most part we marched through a wild and desolate solitude, through steep and gloomy gorges with rapid torrents thundering at the bottom.  In the upper passes the snow lay deep, and more than once as we stumbled along a piercing shriek told us that some unfortunate animal, missing its footing, had hurled its wretched rider into eternity.

At length, to the loudly expressed joy of every man in the army, we left the gloomy wilderness behind, and emerged into a rich and smiling valley.  The animals neighed with delight on seeing the fresh sweet grass, and we who had shivered with the bitter cold in the mountain passes rejoiced at the glorious warmth of the sun.

But now we had to proceed with far greater caution, since at any moment a royalist army might swoop down upon us.  Sharp-sighted scouts rode ahead and on our flanks, while messengers frequently arrived bringing information for our general.  According to these accounts Monseigneur was still in the west, but Marshal Cosse had been despatched with a strong army to oppose us.