He saw the Prince, remounted on the grey horse, emerge from the smoky tumult, and he rode down to meet him.
“Highness,”—he caught the young man’s bridle,—“this is madness——”
William answered—
“No, it is my duty—where are these men if I do not hearten them?”
“If you are slain where are our hopes?”
The Prince laughed.
“I shall not be slain to-day.”
As he spoke a bullet glanced along his cuirass, carrying away the knot of his black scarf.
“We cannot do it,” said M. D’Aylva. “Will not Your Highness order a retreat?”
“Not yet, not yet!” answered the Prince passionately. He looked round at the broken battalions only his unconquerable energy had kept together so long.