“Do you think those are the French bugles?” she asked. “If so, the cause is saved.”
An advance horseman, a Hussar, came riding up the hill. The bugles blew behind him, now near to the town.
“The Duke is at hand,” said he in French.
The people sank upon their knees.
The Governor heard and stood like a statue on the green.
“They are coming!” he said. “They are on the way of victory!”
Six hundred horsemen, glittering in insignia, banners, and trappings, swept into the town, and their dashing leader, the Duke de Lauzun, threw up his hand and took off his hat before the war office. No one had ever dreamed of a scene like that.
The people gathered around him uncovered. The farmers shouted. Children danced in the natural way; old men wept.
Dennis approached a French officer who could speak English.