“I can make them out now,” he said.  “There is a black mass issuing from the village of Oycke, and ascending the hill in the direction of Royegham.  It is too late to reinforce Grimaldi there.  They will be upon him before we can cross the Norken.  But, at any rate, we must send a brigade down to Henhelm, where, with Grimaldi’s men, they can try to keep open the road from Diepenbeck.”

Ten minutes later they could hear, by a sudden outburst of fire, that Grimaldi was engaged.  The sun had already set, but Berwick was able to make out, with his glass, that the left was giving way before the attack of Eugene, and that the twenty battalions under Argyle, which had hitherto remained inactive, were advancing by the main road leading, through Mullen, to the plateau on which they stood.

“The day is lost,” Berwick said bitterly.  “The troops at Diepenbeck are completely cut off.  Darkness alone can save them from annihilation.  And to think that, if it had not been for Burgundy, we could have maintained ourselves here against double the force of the allies!  So long as the system of giving the command of armies to royal incapables continues, we cannot hope for success.”

Vendome lost no time in issuing orders.  The troops still on the plateau were brought forward, whence their fire would command its approaches.  Aides-de-camp were sent in all directions, to order the generals of divisions to draw off at once, and to make their way up to the plateau; and Berwick’s four aides-de-camp were told to make their way, if possible, by different routes to Diepenbeck, and to give orders for the troops there to maintain themselves, at all costs, until darkness had completely fallen; and then to make their way as best they could to the plateau; if that was impossible, to march for either Ghent or Lille.

“The service is a desperate one, gentlemen,” Berwick said, as he turned to give the orders to his officers, “but it is necessary, for if the force remain there until morning, they are all irretrievably lost.  It is getting dark already, and you may, therefore, hope to pass unnoticed between the intervals of the enemy.  If you get there safely, do not try to return at once, but, like the rest, endeavour to make off during the night.”

Without waiting for orders, Mike followed his master.  Going down, they met the remnants of Biron’s division flying in disorder.  They separated at the bridge of Mullen, and, with a word of adieu to his comrades, Desmond turned to the right, and rode for Groenvelde.

Suddenly, a volley of musketry was fired from the hill to the right.  Desmond staggered for a moment in the saddle, and the bridle fell from his left hand.  Mike was by his side in a moment.

“Where are you hurt, master?”

“In the left wrist, I fancy.  By the way the hand hangs down, it must have smashed both bones.  However, there is no time to wait, now.  It is a matter of life and death to get to Diepenbeck.”