ly in the morning the French soldiers at the bridge were startled to
perceive a party of the enemy, each horseman bearing a foot-soldier on
his crupper, approach the river at the ford and begin to move across it.
Instantly, as Paez had intended, they left the bridge and rushed toward
the spot. Bayard, attended by Le Basque, was in the act of putting on
his armor. He sprang into the saddle, and was about to spur after his
companions, when he perceived, across the river, a party of two hundred
Spaniards making for the bridge. The danger was extreme; for if the
bridge were taken the camp itself would be in the most deadly peril.
Bayard bade Le Basque gallop for his life to bring assistance. And he
himself rode forward to the bridge, alone.

The Spaniards, on seeing a solitary knight advance against them, laughed
loudly at his folly. Their foremost horsemen were already half-way over
when Bayard, with his lance in rest, came flying down upon them. His
onset swept the first three off the bridge into the river, and instantly
the rest, with cries of vengeance, rushed furiously upon him. Bayard,
not to be surrounded, backed his horse against the railing of the
bridge, rose up in his stirrups, swung his falchion with both hands
above his head, and lashed out with such fury that, with every blow a
bloody Spaniard fell into the river, and the whole troop recoiled in
wonder and dismay, as if before a demon. While they still stood,
half-dazed, two hundred glaring at one man, a shout was heard, and Le
Basque, with a band of horsemen, was seen approaching like a whirlwind.
In two minutes the Spaniards were swept back upon the land in hopeless
rout--and the French camp was saved.

Bayard received for this great feat the blazon of a porcupine, with this
inscription, _Unus agminis vires habet_--"One man has the might of
armies."

And still came exploit after exploit in succession--exploits of every
kind of fiery daring. At Genoa, when the town revolted, Bayard stormed
the fort of the insurgents, quelled the riot, forced the city to
surrender, and hanged the leader on a pole. At Agnadello, against the
troops of Venice, he waded with his men through fens and ditches, took
the picked bands of Lord d'Alvicino on the flank, scattered them to the
winds, and won the day. At Padua, during the long siege, he scoured the
country with his band of horse, and frequently rode back to camp at
nightfall with more prisoners than armed men. At Mirandola