ut with the new banner!"

They drew forth the banner, which had the double scutcheon of Navarre
and Bourbon; it was white, and had chains of gold on one side, and
fleur-de-lis on the other.

Again the cannon from Cahors were fired, and the balls tore through a
file of infantry near the king.

"Ventre St. Gris! did you see, Chicot?" said the king, whose teeth
chattered.

"He will be ill," thought Chicot.

"Cursed body," murmured Henri, "ah! you fear, you tremble; wait till you
have something to tremble for." And striking his spurs into his horse,
he rushed onward before cavalry, infantry, and artillery, and arrived at
a hundred feet from the place, red with the fire of the batteries which
thundered from above. There, he kept his horse immovable for ten
minutes, his face turned toward the gate of the city, and crying, "The
fascines! ventre St. Gris! the fascines!"

Mornay had followed him, sword in hand, and then came Chicot; behind
them the young Huguenot gentlemen, crying, "Vive Navarre!" and each with
a fascine, which he threw in, and the fosse was soon filled. Then came
the artillery, and with the loss of thirty men succeeded in placing
their petards under the gate. The shot whistled like a whirlwind of iron
round Henri's head, and twenty men fell in an instant before his eyes.
"Forward!" cried he, and rushed on through the midst of the fire, and
arrived just as the soldiers had fired the first petard. The gate was
broken in two places; the second petard was lighted, and a new opening
was made in the wood; but twenty arquebuses immediately passed through,
vomiting balls on the soldiers and officers, and the men fell like mowed
grass.

"Sire," cried Chicot, "in Heaven's name retire!"

Mornay said nothing; he was proud of his pupil, but from time to time he
tried to place himself before him. Once Henri felt the damp on his brow,
and a cloud pass over his eyes.

"Ah, cursed nature," cried he, "you shall not conquer me!" Then, jumping
off his horse, "An ax!" cried he, and with a vigorous arm he struck down
wood and iron. At last a beam gave way, and a part of the gate and a
portion of the wall fell, and one hundred men rushed to the breach,
crying, "Navarre! Navarre! Cahors is ours!"

[Illustration: "AN AX!" CRIED HENRI, AND WITH A VIGOROUS ARM HE STRUCK
DOWN WOOD AND IRON.]

Chicot had not quitted the king; he was with him under the gate when he
entered, one of the first, but at each discharge he saw him sh