Turenne had performed the greatest military feat of Louis' reign, had set the chief seal upon a long career of glory.
Weary of lying inert in winter quarters for weeks after the battle of Entzheim, he had suddenly conceived, and afterwards carefully matured, the achievement which he had now carried through. The whole of his army had left Alsace in three different brigades, and, passing over the Vosges in the depth of a winter remarkable for its inclemency and particularly for the amount of rain which fell--progressing through roads and mountain paths rendered almost impassable by the mud and water with which they were soaked--had reached Lorraine. There remained nothing now but to fall upon the unsuspecting Imperialists at Belfort, Mühlhausen, and elsewhere, to hunt them from Lorraine and, once more and finally, to make Louis master of that much disputed province. How this was done countless other pens have told.
Of those three brigades which had so wondrously and rapidly crossed the mountains, the one that had met the eyes of Clemence first and of Andrew afterwards, on this winter morning and after that night of horror, was led by the great captain himself--it taking possession of Remiremont ere many more hours had passed. Amongst those who had been detached towards the still burning house, the moment that the flames were seen, were some that formed the brigade of cavalry under the Count de Lusignan, with also several of the English and Scotch auxiliaries, under the command for the moment of the Marquis De La Fare.
They rode into that great courtyard half an hour after the Lorrainers had deserted the place, and, used though they were--God knows the devastation of the Palatinate had made them so!--to the sight of burning houses, even of burning towns and cities, they could not but stare in amazement at what met their eyes.
For, still, from the south wing of that great house the flames poured forth in fury--that side of it having now caught well alight; upon the roof of the west wing they saw, clear against the threatening sky, the form of a great man standing looking down upon them, his arms folded.
Then, from the midst of those rescuers, there rode forward one who was, undoubtedly, in command of them--the rich justaucorps with its gold gallooning and flammes d'or showing that he who wore it belonged to the nobility--who called up to Andrew standing above.
"Sir, are you the owner of this unfortunate house?" while, as he spoke, he raised his hand to his thick, three-cornered felt hat.
"Nay, sir. Yet am I the last man left alive in it. But if you will, or can, rescue us from our perilous position, for there are two women here as well as I----"
But, as he spoke, he noticed that his questioner's attention had been withdrawn from him by several of his followers, all of whom appeared to be speaking earnestly to their leader, while at the same time they directed their eyes up to Andrew, as did that leader also a moment later. Then the latter said, or rather called up to him again:
"Sir, my men here tell me strange news. I cannot think but that they are mistaken. Yet they aver it is not so, and you can soon decide. They say that you are of our army, of the English auxiliary force, and fought for us recently."