“One moment, your honour.  Let me put your hand into the breast of your coatee; then, if you keep your elbow tight against your body, it will keep it steady.”

Although Mike carried out his suggestion as gently as he could, Desmond almost fainted with pain.

“Take a drop of brandy from your flask, master.  It won’t take half a minute, and then we will be off.”

They continued their journey.  The rattle of musketry, ahead of them, showed that the combat had already commenced close by; between either the advancing troops of Argyle, or those who had crossed the hill of Royegham; and Grimaldi’s brigade, which was probably endeavouring to hold them in check, until the troops at Diepenbeck came back.

It was already too dark to distinguish the uniforms, except at a distance of a few yards.  Dashing on, he saw a dark mass ahead—­three officers rode out.

“Who are you, sir?” they shouted.

“I am carrying a report from the general,” he replied, in English, and without drawing rein dashed on, passing within twenty yards of the column, and reached Diepenbeck without further interruption.

In the centre of the village, the French general was sitting on his horse, surrounded by his staff.  The combat beyond raged as furiously as before.  Desmond rode up, and saluted.

“I am the bearer of orders from Marshal Vendome, sir,” he said.  “He bid me tell you that a large force of the enemy has crossed the hills of Oycke and Royegham, and is already in your rear, the enemy’s right overlapping your left; while the whole British reserve is pressing forward, and will ere long effect a junction with both these forces.  Your retreat, therefore, is entirely cut off.  The orders are that you shall maintain yourself here as long as possible, as in the darkness and confusion, it is unlikely that the allies can attack you from the rear before morning.

“The marshal himself holds the plateau, and will continue to do so.  You are to make your way tonight, if possible, in battalions and in good order, through the intervals between the various divisions of the enemy; or, if that is not possible, singly.  All are to endeavour to join him on the plateau.  Those who cannot do this are to make for Ghent or Lille.”

“Your order scarcely comes as a surprise, sir,” the general said bitterly.  “We have heard firing in our rear for some time, and we were afraid that things had gone badly with us, after all.”

He at once gave orders that the troops behind the village were to take up a position to resist any attack made in that direction.  Desmond dismounted, as did Mike, and the latter took the two horses, fastened them to a tree, and then, with Desmond’s scarf, bound his arm firmly against his side.

“We have made a mess of it entirely, your honour,” he said, “and have got a terrible bating.  Sure we were lucky in getting here.  Faith, I thought we were caught when you were hailed.”