t 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