gs were, or being able to
consider itself victorious. Night came on; and French and Burgundians
encamped before Montlhery. The Count of Charolais sat down on two heaps
of straw, and had his wound dressed. Around him were the stripped
corpses of the slain. As they were being moved to make room for him, a
poor wounded creature, somewhat revived by the motion, recovered
consciousness and asked for a drink. The count made them pour down his
throat a drop of his own mixture, for he never drank wine. The wounded
man came completely to himself, and recovered. It was one of the archers
of his guard. Next day news was brought to Charles that the Bretons were
coming up, with their own duke, the Duke of Berry, and Count Dunois at
their head. He went as far as Etampes to meet them, and informed them of
what had just happened. The Duke of Berry was very much distressed; it
was a great pity, he said, that so many people had been killed; he
heartily wished that the war had never been begun. "Did you hear," said
the Count of Charolais to his servants, "how yonder fellow talks? He is
upset at the sight of seven or eight hundred wounded men going about the
town, folks who are nothing to him, and whom he does not even know; he
would be still more upset if the matter touched him nearly; he is just
the sort of fellow to readily make his own terms and leave us stuck in
the mud; we must secure other friends." And he forthwith made one of his
people post off to England, to draw closer the alliance between Burgundy
and Edward IV.

Louis, meanwhile, after passing a day at Corbeil, had once more, on the
18th of July, entered Paris, the object of his chief solicitude. He
dismounted at his lieutenant's, the Sire de Meinn's, and asked for some
supper. Several persons, burgesses and their wives, took supper with
him. He excited their lively interest by describing to them the battle
of Montlhery, the danger he had run there, and the scenes which had been
enacted, adopting at one time a pathetic and at another a bantering tone,
and exciting by turns the emotion and the laughter of his audience. In
three days, he said, he would return to fight his enemies, in order to
finish the war; but he had not enough of men-at-arms, and all had not at
that moment such good spirits as he. He passed a fortnight in Paris,
devoting himself solely to the task of winning the hearts of the
Parisians, reducing imposts, giving audience to everybody, lending