Louis started at sight of him.
"Ah, you!" he exclaimed; "one of your prophecies has been fulfilled!"
Duprès abased himself before the young general.
"I knew," he said humbly. "But, seigneur, I never told him—I saw one star fall for Count Aremberg and one for him—but he knew without my words."
"Yes, I think he knew," replied Louis; he looked keenly at the half-starved, ragged figure of the refugee. "And when shall I join him, wise fellow?"
Duprès crouched away.
"The contest will outlast all the warriors," he muttered, "and your horoscope is more dreadful than his—but how do I know? I cannot read the heavens as I could!"
"There is no need to look in the heavens for my portents," said Louis, as if speaking to himself, "they are blazed abroad before the eyes of men very clearly."
The golden dusk faded and darkness closed over Heiliger Lee, soft clouds passed over the setting sun which pierced them with level rays like spears; the dead men in the morass were hidden, the moving light of lanterns crossed and recrossed the victorious camp.
A mist, white and trembling, rose from the swamp and obscured the roadway; the young trees in the forest, shivered and faded to a dark hue against the last pearly glow of the west.