the destruction of
the little troop of Camisards, as well as that of the travellers, was
absolutely inevitable. During the firing and cries, Vila sprang from
the carriage with pistols in his hand, and the Counsellor of Parliament
followed him, without knowing clearly what was going to happen. By the
grey light of the morning it was discovered that the attack was given
from a valley lying sideways; the travellers were on the heights. The
Counsellor of Parliament, who had quitted the carriage the last, saw
immediately, that all were engaged in a melee, the royalists seemed to
give way, when a second troop rushed out of the underwood of whom it
was difficult to decide whether they were soldiers, or rebels. Before
however the Counsellor was able to gain any certainty, or to form any
resolution, the coachman laid hold of him, pressed him urgently to get
into the carriage, and as he saw the old man's hesitation, he lifted
him into it almost forcibly. "Better without the master, than to perish
here with him, he will soon find us again," cried he in the utmost
anxiety, and whipped the horses, so that they started off snorting in
full gallop over hill and dale. After some time the Lord of Beauvais
recovered his recollection and with much argument and dispute, he
compelled the obstinate man to stand still again. On the summit of a
mountain, from whence they could overlook the whole surrounding
country, they awaited the one, who had remained behind. Of the combat
nothing more was to be discovered: it seemed as if far in the distance
a band of fugitives was flying; but nothing could be clearly
distinguished. At length they espied two riders emerge from a copse,
who pursued the same road. They approached nearer and the doctor was
now seen waving a handkerchief and working his way up to the summit,
mounted on a little horse. A young lad with his head bound up was
following him. "You did well," cried he, when he arrived at the top,
"to retreat immediately at the commencement of the battle; that is
dull, insipid business, which does not suit us civilians."

"There Martin, for such is your name, take the nag again to yourself
and do what you will with him." With these words he dismounted, and
betook himself to the carriage, where he was first obliged to listen to
many self-praises from his coachman, who wished to appropriate to
himself the whole credit of this clever retreat, and on account of
whose over-haste, the Lord of Beauvais abas