When the last man of the enemy had left the last of the points of assault, Gabriel fell back into the arms of those who were near him, utterly worn out with fatigue and with joy.
They bore him in triumph to the town-hall.
His wounds were but slight, and his swoon could not be of long duration. When he regained his senses, Admiral de Coligny was at his side, his face radiant with pleasure.
"Monsieur l'Amiral," were Gabriel's first words, "it's not a dream, is it? There has been a fierce assault to-day, which we succeeded in repelling?"
"Yes, my friend, and thanks to you in great measure," replied Gaspard.
"And the week that the king allotted me has passed!" cried Gabriel. "Oh, thank God! thank God!"
"And to complete your satisfaction, my dear fellow," rejoined the admiral, "I bring you some glorious news. Under cover of our obstinate defence of St. Quentin, the preparations for the defence of the whole kingdom have apparently been perfected; one of my spies, who succeeded in seeing the constable and entering the town again during the confusion to-day, has given me every reason to hope for the best in that regard. Monsieur de Guise has arrived at Paris with the Italian army, and in concert with the Cardinal de Lorraine, is engaged in raising men, and putting towns in a posture of defence. St. Quentin, in her dismantled and depopulated condition, could not beat back another assault; but her work and ours is done, and France is saved, my friend. Yes, behind our faithful ramparts every one is under arms: the nobility and all the orders of the State have arisen; recruits abound; the free gifts from the clergy are pouring in; and two troops of German auxiliaries have been retained. When the enemy shall have made an end of us, and that cannot now be long delayed unfortunately, he will at least find others ready to challenge him. France is saved, Gabriel!"
"Ah, Monsieur l'Amiral, you cannot imagine how much good you have done me," Gabriel responded. "But allow me to ask one question; it is from no vain feeling of conceit that I ask it; you know me too well now to believe that. No, there is beneath my question a very serious and very deep meaning, believe me. Monsieur l'Amiral, in two words, do you think that my presence here during the last week has counted for anything in the fortunate result of the siege of St. Quentin?"
"For everything, my friend, for everything!" the admiral replied with generous frankness. "The day of your arrival you saw yourself that except for your unexpected intervention I should have yielded; that my courage was giving way under the terrible weight of responsibility with which my conscience was burdened; and that I should then have delivered to the Spaniard the keys of this city with which the king had intrusted me. The next day did you not succeed in carrying out your undertaking of throwing reinforcements into the town,—weak reinforcements, to be sure, but sufficient nevertheless to rekindle the courage of the besieged? I say nothing of the sagacious advice which you gave to our miners and engineers. I say nothing of the superb gallantry which you have displayed all the time and at all points during every assault. But who almost miraculously saved the town from being surprised by a night attack four days since? And this very day, who, with unheard-of temerity and success, succeeded in prolonging still farther a resistance which I confess I believed to be impossible? You, always you, my friend, who, being everywhere present and unfailingly ready at every corner of the fortifications, seemed in very truth to have acquired the angels' gift of ubiquity; so that our soldiers know no other name for you than Captain Five-Hundred, Gabriel, I say to you with sincere delight and profound gratitude that you are the first and sole deliverer of this town, and consequently of France."
"Oh, many, many thanks, Monsieur l'Amiral, for your too kind and flattering words! But pardon me! are you willing to repeat them in his Majesty's presence?"