f rock they stood, and our front rank went down before them. We
withdrew a space, and once more sprang forward, but with the same
result. The din was terrific; steel clashed against steel; horses
neighed, men groaned in agony, or shouted in triumph.

And presently, above the tumult, we heard Conde's voice ringing high and
clear, "To me, gentlemen! To me!"

He was in the thick of the press, cutting a passage for himself, while
numbers of his bodyguard toiled after him.

"To the Prince!" cried Roger Braund in stentorian tones, "or he is
lost!"

We tore our way like a parcel of madmen, striking right and left in
blind fury, and not pausing to parry a blow. But the enemy surged round
us like waves in a storm. They hammered us in front, in the rear, on
both flanks; we fell apart into groups, each group fighting strenuously
for dear life.

And in the midst of the fearful struggle there rose the ominous cry,
"The Prince is down!"

For an instant both sides stood still, and then Roger Braund, crying,
"To the rescue!" leaped straight at those in front of him. The noble
band of Englishmen followed, the battle flamed up afresh; renewed cries
of "Conde! Conde!" arose, but we listened in vain for the reply of our
daring general.

"The Prince is down!" ran mournfully from man to man, and though some
fought on with intrepid bravery, the majority were thrown into disorder
by their leader's fall.

As for myself, I know not how the latter part of the battle went.
Half-stunned by a heavy blow on my helmet, I clung mechanically to my
horse, who carried me out of the press. As soon as my senses returned, I
drew rein and gazed across the plain. It presented a melancholy sight.
Here was a little band of wearied troopers spurring hard from the scene
of conflict; there a man, dismounted and wounded, staggering along
painfully, while some lay in the stillness of death. They had struck
their first and last blow.

The battle, if battle it could be called, was over; the victors were
busy securing their prisoners; nothing more could be done, and with a
heavy heart I turned reluctantly away. Removing my helmet so that the
fresh air might blow upon my aching temples, I rode on, picking up a
companion here and there, until at last we formed a troop some fifty
strong.

Hardly a word passed between us. We were angry, and ashamed; we had met
with a bitter defeat; our leader was down, and no man knew even if he
lived.

"Where is the Admiral