"Forward! Forward!" we shouted. "On them! They are giving way!" and Felix, snatching a flag from a wounded man, charged with reckless abandon into the very midst of the foe.
"The flag!" I cried, "follow the flag!" Straight ahead of us it went, now waving triumphantly aloft, now drooping, now swaying again, and high above the din of strife sounded my comrade's voice, crying, "For the Admiral! For the Faith! Forward! Forward!"
The daring hazardous exploit sent a wave of fire through every man. We flung off our fatigue as if it were a cloak, dealing our blows as vigorously as though the battle were but newly joined. And as we toiled on, following the flag, a great shout of victory arose on our right. Henry of Bearn had thrust back his assailants; they were running fast, and his horsemen were hanging on their heels like sleuth-hounds.
The cry was taken up and repeated all along the line, and in a few minutes the enemy, smitten by sudden fear, were flying in all directions. For some distance we pursued, sweeping numbers of prisoners to the rear; but our animals were wearied, and presently all but a few of the most fiery spirits had halted.
The victory was ours, but we had bought it at a high price. Some of our bravest officers were dead, and Coligny looked mournfully at his diminished band of attendants. We rode back to our lines, and to me the joy of our triumph was sadly dimmed by the absence of my comrade. In the wild stampede I had lost sight of the flag, and no one had seen its gallant bearer.
"Has Monsieur Bellièvre fallen?" asked Jacques, who had ridden well and boldly with the troopers.
"I do not know; I fear so. He was a long distance ahead of us in the last charge. I am going to search for him."
"There is your English friend, monsieur; he is not hurt."
Roger grasped my hand warmly. "Safe!" he exclaimed; "I hardly dared to hope it. It has been a terrible fight. Our poor fellows"—he spoke of the English remnant—"have suffered severely. Where is Felix?"
"We are on our way to look for him; I fear he has fallen."