ck. No cry or
scream broke from the women. Most of these threw themselves upon
their knees. A few of the men followed their example, and prepared
to die unresistingly. Some sprang away among the trees, and above
the din the preacher's voice was heard commencing a Huguenot hymn
beginning, "The gates of heaven are opened;" in which, without a
moment's hesitation, those who remained around him joined.

In a moment, with savage shouts and yells, their assailants were
upon them, smiting and thrusting. With a shout, Philip spurred
forward from the other side. He saw at once that, against such
numbers, he and his three followers could do nothing; but his rage
at this massacre of innocent people--a scene common enough in
France, but which he now for the first time witnessed--half
maddened him.

One of the horsemen, whom he recognized at once as the man Pierre
had knocked down with the plate, rode at the girl Philip had been
watching; and who was standing, with upturned face, joining in the
hymn. The man attending her drew his sword, and placed himself in
the way of the horseman; but the latter cut him down, and raised
the sword to strike full at the girl, when Philip shot him through
the head.

Instantly another horseman, with a shout of recognition, rode at
him. Philip thrust his still smoking pistol in his holster, and
drew his sword.

"This is more than I hoped for," his assailant said, as he dealt a
sweeping blow at him.

"Do not congratulate yourself too soon," Philip replied, as he
guarded the blow and, lunging in return, the point glided off his
adversary's armour.

He parried again; and then, with a back-handed sweep, he struck his
opponent on the neck with his whole force. Coming out to take part
in a Huguenot hunt, in which he expected no opposition, the knight
had left his helmet behind him; and fell from his horse, with his
head half severed from his body.

In the meantime the two men-at-arms and Pierre had driven back the
mob of townsmen; who, however, having massacred most of the
unresisting Huguenots, were surging up round them.

"Give me your hand, mademoiselle, and put your foot on mine,"
Philip exclaimed to the girl, who was still standing close to him.

"Pierre," he shouted as, bewildered by the uproar, the girl
instinctively obeyed the order, "take this woman up behind you."

Pierre made his horse plunge, and so freed himself from those
attacking him. Then, reining round, he rode to Philip's s