those of his adversary touched him,
and in spite of his armor, drew some drops of blood from his shoulder.

"Ah!" cried the young admiral, "this man is a Frenchman, and what is
more, he has studied fencing under the same master as I have."

At these words the unknown turned away, and tried to find a new
antagonist.

"If you are French," cried Joyeuse, "you are a traitor, for you fight
against your king, your country, and your flag."

The unknown only replied by attacking Joyeuse with fresh fury; but now
Joyeuse was on his guard, and knew with what a skillful swordsman he had
to deal. He parried two or three thrusts with as much skill as fury, and
it was now the stranger who made a step back.

"See!" cried Joyeuse, "what one can do fighting for one's country! A
pure heart and a loyal arm suffice to defend a head without a helmet, a
face without a vizor;" and he threw his helmet far from him, displaying
his noble and beautiful head, with eyes sparkling with pride, youth and
anger.

His antagonist forebore answer, uttered a cry, and struck at his bare
head.

"Ah!" cried Joyeuse, parrying the blow, "I said you were a traitor, and
as a traitor you shall die. I will kill you, and carry off this helmet
which hides and defends you, and hang you to the first tree that I see."

[Illustration: "I SAID YOU WERE A TRAITOR, AND AS A TRAITOR YOU SHALL
DIE."]

But at this moment a cavalier cried:

"Monseigneur, no more skirmishing; your presence is wanted over there."

Glancing toward the point indicated, the unknown saw the Flemings giving
way before the Calvinist cavalry.

"Yes," cried he, "those are the men I wanted."

At this moment so many cavaliers pressed on the sailors, that they made
their first step in retreat.

The black cavalier profited by this movement to disappear in the melee.

A quarter of an hour after the French began to give way. M. de St.
Aignan tried to retreat in good order, but a last troop of 2,000
infantry and 500 horse came out fresh from the city, and fell on this
harassed and already retreating army. It was the old band of the Prince
of Orange, which had fought in turns against the Duc d'Alva, Don John,
Requesens, and Alexander Farnese. In spite of the coolness of the chiefs
and the bravery of many, a frightful rout commenced.

At this moment the unknown fell again on the fugitives, and once more
met Joyeuse with his now diminished band. The young admiral was mounted
on his third horse,