se. With exalted military genius he guided every
movement, at the same time sharing the toil of the humblest soldier.
"It is a marvel," he wrote, "how I live with the labor I undergo. God
have pity upon me, and show me mercy."

Some of Henry's friends, appalled by the strength of the army pursuing
them, urged him to embark and seek refuge in England.

"Here we are," Henry replied, "in France, and here let us be buried.
If we fly now, all our hopes will vanish with the wind which bears
us."

In a skirmish, one day, one of the Catholic chieftains, the Count de
Belin, was taken captive. He was led to the head-quarters of the king.
Henry greeted him with perfect cordiality, and, noticing the
astonishment of the count in seeing but a few scattered soldiers where
he had expected to see a numerous army, he said, playfully, yet with
a confident air,

"You do not perceive all that I have with me, M. de Belin, for you do
not reckon God and the right on my side."

The indomitable energy of Henry, accompanied by a countenance ever
serene and cheerful under circumstances apparently so desperate,
inspired the soldiers with the same intrepidity which glowed in the
bosom of their chief.

But at last the valiant little band, so bravely repelling overwhelming
numbers, saw, to their inexpressible joy, the distant ocean whitened
with the sails of the approaching English fleet. Shouts of exultation
rolled along their exhausted lines, carrying dismay into the camp of
the Leaguers. A favorable wind pressed the fleet rapidly forward, and
in a few hours, with streaming banners, and exultant music, and
resounding salutes, echoed and re-echoed from English ships and French
batteries, the fleet of Elizabeth, loaded to its utmost capacity with
money, military supplies, and men, cast anchor in the little harbor of
Dieppe.

Nearly six thousand men, Scotch and English, were speedily
disembarked. The Duke of Mayenne, though his army was still double
that of Henry IV., did not dare to await the onset of his foes thus
recruited. Hastily breaking up his encampment, he retreated to Paris.
Henry IV., in gratitude to God for the succor which he had thus
received from the Protestant Queen of England, directed that
thanksgivings should be offered in his own quarters according to the
religious rites of the Protestant Church. This so exasperated the
Catholics, even in his own camp, that a mutiny was excited, and
several of the Protestant soldiers were