ised the standard of the
prince.

"Farewell, till the next time we meet," cried Chatillon, and he set off,
full gallop.

Athos and Aramis turned also and went to salute the coadjutor and the
Duc de Beaufort. As to the Duc de Bouillon, he had such a fit of gout
as obliged him to return to Paris in a litter; but his place was well
filled by the Duc d'Elbeuf and his four sons, ranged around him like a
staff. Meantime, between Charenton and the royal army was left a space
which looked ready to serve as a last resting place for the dead.

"Gentlemen," cried the coadjutor, tightening his sash, which he
wore, after the fashion of the ancient military prelates, over his
archiepiscopal simar, "there's the enemy approaching. Let us save them
half of their journey."

And without caring whether he were followed or not he set off; his
regiment, which bore the name of the regiment of Corinth, from the name
of his archbishopric, darted after him and began the fight. Monsieur de
Beaufort sent his cavalry, toward Etampes and Monsieur de Chanleu, who
defended the place, was ready to resist an assault, or if the enemy were
repulsed, to attempt a sortie.

The battle soon became general and the coadjutor performed miracles
of valor. His proper vocation had always been the sword and he was
delighted whenever he could draw it from the scabbard, no matter for
whom or against whom.

Chanleu, whose fire at one time repulsed the royal regiment, thought
that the moment was come to pursue it; but it was reformed and led again
to the charge by the Duc de Chatillon in person. This charge was so
fierce, so skillfully conducted, that Chanleu was almost surrounded. He
commanded a retreat, which began, step by step, foot by foot; unhappily,
in an instant he fell, mortally wounded. De Chatillon saw him fall and
announced it in a loud voice to his men, which raised their spirits and
completely disheartened their enemies, so that every man thought only of
his own safety and tried to gain the trenches, where the coadjutor was
trying to reform his disorganized regiment.

Suddenly a squadron of cavalry galloped up to encounter the royal
troops, who were entering, pele-mele, the intrenchments with the
fugitives. Athos and Aramis charged at the head of their squadrons;
Aramis with sword and pistol in his hands, Athos with his sword in his
scabbard, his pistol in his saddle-bags; calm and cool as if on the
parade, except that his noble and beautiful coun