The onset was terrific, but not a horseman broke through our ranks; they crowded upon one another in the narrow pass; they had no room for the play of their weapons, and while those in the rear were striving to push forward, the foremost were thrust back upon them in a confused heap.
Then, above the din, was heard Andelot's voice, crying: "Charge, gentlemen!" and with the force of a hurricane rush we swept them before us like leaves scattered by an autumn gale. And as we returned, flushed but triumphant, a second messenger met us.
"They are across, my lord," he cried, "all but ourselves; and the Prince is preparing to defend the ford on the farther side of the river. He begs that you will come immediately; the waters are rising."
"Forward! Forward!" Laughing and cheering, we raced along, a few wounded, but none seriously, and most of us unharmed. Our comrades were marshalled on the opposite bank, and they cried to us to hasten. From what cause—unless by a direct intervention of Providence—I know not, but the river was rising rapidly, and the last of our troop were compelled to swim several yards.
But we reached the bank without mishap, and turning round perceived our stubborn pursuers advancing at full speed. The foremost horsemen reaching the river drew rein; the ford was no longer visible, and they had no means of passage. They wandered along the bank disconsolately, while we, sending them one last cheer, rode after our van.
"A point in the game to us, Edmond," said my comrade, "and oddly gained too. The Admiral's chaplain will make use of that in his next discourse. He will say that Providence is fighting on our side."
"'Tis at least a good omen! Had the enemy crossed, we must have been defeated."
"Perhaps so; perhaps not. I'll wager Guise is storming over yonder, at the escape of his prey."
"But why wasn't the ford guarded?" I asked.
"An oversight, most likely, and a fortunate one for us. However, we are out of the trap."