lower of the nobility cut down like
grass,--such were the terrible results of a battle which plunged France
into mourning, and which would have been a blot on the reign of Henry
II, had not the Duke of Guise obtained a brilliant revenge the following
year.

In a little village less than a mile from the field of battle were to be
heard the groans of the wounded and dying, who had been carried thither
from the field of battle. The inhabitants had given up their houses to
be used as hospitals, and two or three barber surgeons went hither
and thither, hastily ordering operations which they left to their
assistants, and driving out fugitives who had contrived to accompany the
wounded under pretence of assisting friends or near relations. They had
already expelled a good number of these poor fellows, when, opening the
door of a small room, they found a soldier soaked in blood lying on
a rough mat, and another soldier apparently attending on him with the
utmost care.

"Who are you?" said one of the surgeons to the sufferer. "I don't think
you belong to our French troops."

"Help!" cried the soldier, "only help me! and may God bless you for it!"

"From the colour of that tunic," remarked the other surgeon, "I should
wager the rascal belongs to some Spanish gentleman. By what blunder was
he brought here?"

"For pity's sake!" murmured the poor fellow, "I am in such pain."

"Die, wretch!" responded the last speaker, pushing him with his foot.
"Die, like the dog you are!"

But this brutality, answered as it was by an agonised groan, disgusted
the other surgeon.

"After all, he is a man, and a wounded man who implores help. Leave him
to me, Rene."

Rene went out grumbling, and the one who remained proceeded to examine
the wound. A terrible arquebus-shot had passed through the leg,
shattering the bone: amputation was absolutely necessary.

Before proceeding to the operation, the surgeon turned to the other
soldier, who had retired into the darkest corner of the room.

"And you, who may you be?" he asked.

The man replied by coming forward into the light: no other answer was
needed. He resembled his companion so closely that no one could doubt
they were brothers-twin brothers, probably. Both were above middle
height; both had olive-brown complexions, black eyes, hooked
noses, pointed chins, a slightly projecting lower lip; both were
round-shouldered, though this defect did not amount to disfigurement:
the whole persona