as fashioning
had fallen on his knees, and his eyes were fixed on the distance of his
youth. "For me, my lord, I am tired, and I go with you. I go with you.
It is a good death to die biting before the strength be quite gone. Have
the dagger too, if you please, and I'll fit it within the splint right
neatly. But I shall be there--"

"And you'll strike home?" Tavannes cried eagerly. He raised himself on
his elbow, a gleam of joy in his gloomy eyes.

"Have no fear, my lord. See, does it tremble?" He held out his hand.
"And when you are sped, I will try the Spanish stroke--upwards with a
turn ere you withdraw, that I learned from Ruiz--on the shaven pate. I
see them about me now!" the old man continued, his face flushing, his
form dilating. "It will be odd if I cannot snatch a sword and hew down
three to go with Tavannes! And Bigot, he will see my lord the Marshal by-
and-by; and as I do to the priest, the Marshal will do to Montsoreau. Ho!
ho! He will teach him the _coup de Jarnac_, never fear!" And the old
man's moustaches curled up ferociously.

Count Hannibal's eyes sparkled with joy. "Old dog!" he cried--and he
held his hand to the veteran, who brushed it reverently with his lips--"we
will go together then! Who touches my brother, touches Tavannes!"

"Touches Tavannes!" Badelon cried, the glow of battle lighting his
bloodshot eyes. He rose to his feet. "Touches Tavannes! You mind at
Jarnac--"

"Ah! At Jarnac!"

"When we charged their horse, was my boot a foot from yours, my lord?"

"Not a foot!"

"And at Dreux," the old man continued with a proud, elated gesture, "when
we rode down the German pikemen--they were grass before us, leaves on the
wind, thistledown--was it not I who covered your bridle hand, and swerved
not in the _melee_?"

"It was! It was!"

"And at St. Quentin, when we fled before the Spaniard--it was his day,
you remember, and cost us dear--"

"Ay, I was young then," Tavannes cried in turn, his eyes glistening. "St.
Quentin! It was the tenth of August. And you were new with me, and
seized my rein--"

"And we rode off together, my lord--of the last, of the last, as God sees
me! And striking as we went, so that they left us for easier game."

"It was so, good sword! I remember it as if it had been yesterday!"

"And at Cerisoles, the Battle of the Plain, in the old Spanish wars, that
was most like a joust of all the pitched fields I ever saw--at Cerisoles,
where I