het], "charge: now is the time." The young prince, without his hat,
and his horsemen charged so vigorously that they put the Leaguers to the
rout, killed three hundred of them, and returned quietly within their
lines, by Biron's orders, without being disturbed in their retreat.
These partial and irregular encounters began again on the 18th and 19th
of September, with the same result. The Duke of Mayenne was nettled and
humiliated; he had his prestige to recover. He decided to concentrate
all his forces right on the king's intrenchments, and attack them in
front with his whole army. The 20th of September passed without a single
skirmish. Henry, having received good information that he would be
attacked the next day, did not go to bed. The night was very dark. He
thought he saw a long way off in the valley a long line of lighted
matches; but there was profound silence; and the king and his officers
puzzled themselves to decide if they were men or glow-worms. On the
21st, at five A. M., the king gave orders for every one to be ready and
at his post. He himself repaired to the battle-field. Sitting in a big
fosse with all his officers, he had his breakfast brought thither, and
was eating with good appetite, when a prisoner was brought to him, a
gentleman of the League, who had advanced too far whilst making a
reconnaissance. "Good day, Belin," said the king, who recognized him,
laughing: "embrace me for your welcome appearance." Belin embraced him,
telling him that he was about to have down upon him thirty thousand foot
and ten thousand horse. "Where are your forces?" he asked the king,
looking about him. "O! you don't see them all, M. de Belin," said Henry:
"you don't reckon the good God and the good right, but they are ever with
me."

The action began about ten o'clock. The fog was still so thick that
there was no seeing one another at ten paces. The ardor on both sides
was extreme; and, during nearly three hours, victory seemed to twice
shift her colors. Henry at one time found himself entangled amongst some
squadrons so disorganized that he shouted, "Courage, gentlemen; pray,
courage! Can't we find fifty gentlemen willing to die with their king?"
At this moment Chatillon, issuing from Dieppe with five hundred picked
men, arrived on the field of battle. The king dismounted to fight at his
side in the trenches; and then, for a quarter of an hour, there was a
furious combat, man to man. At last, "when th