yr, erect and
soldierly, in spite of his four score and five years, led the charge,
and a rousing cheer broke from us at sight of the gallant veteran.

But there was little time for cheering. "Charge, my children!" cried the
Admiral, "charge, and strike home! For the Faith!"

"For the Faith!" we echoed lustily, spurring our horses, and dashing
into the fray.

Hammered by St. Cyr on the left, by the Admiral in front, by the young
princes on the right, the royalist horse reeled and staggered. Again and
again they tried to rally; but we rode them down, broke the groups as
soon as they re-formed, drove them pell-mell on to their infantry, and
then with one grand rush tumbled the whole division into ruin.

"Forward! Forward!" cried the hot-bloods. "Remember Jarnac!" "Remember
Conde!" "Cut them down!"

But a wild pursuit formed no part of the Admiral's plans; he wished to
cross the river unmolested, so the bugles were sounded, and we came
dropping back, laughing and cheering, and in high spirits at our
brilliant little victory. As with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes we
ranged ourselves around our brave leader some one cried out, "See, what
is going on over yonder!"

In a corner of the field, some distance off, a number of royalists had
rallied round a flag. Something strange was happening; the flag
disappeared, came into view again, and once more sank from sight. Then
in one spot the crowd gave way as if burst asunder, and out from the gap
leaped a horseman. He was carrying the flag, and he rode straight toward
us. A dozen men started in pursuit, but he outdistanced them easily,
turning from time to time and waving the flag as if in derision.

We gazed in astonishment at the spectacle, wondering what it meant,
until Felix cried out, "'Tis the Englishman! 'Tis Roger Braund. He has
captured the flag!"

A great roar of cheering went up as he approached us, his helmet gone,
his face bleeding, his doublet slashed, but his eyes smiling cheerfully.
With an easy grace he jumped from his horse, and advancing on foot
presented the trophy to the Admiral.

"A memento of the battle-field, my lord," he said, with a courteous bow.

Coligny took the flag, and with a rare smile handed it back, saying,
"Monsieur, it could not remain in worthier hands! Let it be carried in
the ranks of your gallant countrymen, to whom we owe so much."

Roger bowed again. "The memory of your praise my lord," said he, "will
nerve us to deserve it.