two
other servants, commenced their rounds of the Duke of Burgundy's
encampment. For the greater part of their progress, they found
sentinels and guards all on the alert and at their posts. It was a
bitter morning. The ground was partly covered with snow--that snow had
been partly melted by a thaw, which had prevailed for two days, and
partly congealed into ice by a bitter frost, which had commenced the
preceding evening, and still continued. A more dreary scene could
scarcely be witnessed.

* * * * *

A broad red glare rising behind the assailants, and putting to shame
the pallid lights of the winter morning, first recalled Arthur to a
sense of his condition. The camp was on fire in his rear, and
resounded with all the various shouts of conquest and terror that are
heard in a town which is stormed. Starting to his feet, he looked
around him for his father. He lay near him senseless, as were the
gunners, whose condition prevented their attempting an escape. Having
opened his father's casque, he was rejoiced to see him give symptoms
of reanimation.

* * * * *

They looked back more than once on the camp, now one great scene of
conflagration, by whose red and glaring light they could discover on
the ground the traces of Charles's retreat. About three miles from the
scene of their defeat, the sound of which they still heard, mingled
with the bells of Nancy, which were ringing in triumph, they reached
an half-frozen swamp, round which lay several dead bodies. The most
conspicuous was that of Charles of Burgundy, once the possessor of
such unlimited power--such unbounded wealth. He was partly stripped
and plundered, as were those who lay round him. His body was pierced
with several wounds, inflicted by various weapons. His sword was still
in his hand, and the singular ferocity which was wont to animate his
features in battle, still dwelt on his stiffened countenance. Close
behind him, as if they had fallen in the act of mutual fight, lay the
corpse of Count Albert of Geierstein; and that of Ital Schreckenwald,
the faithful though unscrupulous follower of the latter, lay not far
distant. Both were in the dress of the men-at-arms composing the
Duke's guard, a disguise probably assumed to execute the fatal
commission of the Secret Tribunal. It is supposed that a party of the
traitor Campo-Basso's men had been engaged in the skirmish in which
the Duke fell, for