d take aim, and the distance between the two bodies of troops
disappeared rapidly, thanks to the impetuosity of the dragoons; but
suddenly, when within thirty paces of the enemy, the royals found
themselves on the edge of a deep ravine which separated them from the
enemy like a moat. Some were able to check their horses in time, but
others, despite desperate efforts, pressed upon by those behind, were
pushed into the ravine, and rolled helplessly to the bottom. At the same
moment the order to fire was given in a sonorous voice, there was a
rattle of musketry, and several dragoons near M. de Broglie fell.

"Forward!" cried Captain Poul, "forward!" and putting his horse at a part
of the ravine where the sides were less steep, he was soon struggling up
the opposite side, followed by a few dragoons.

"Death to the son of Belial!" cried the same voice which had given the
order to fire. At that moment a single shot rang out, Captain Poul threw
up his hands, letting his sabre go, and fell from his horse, which
instead of running away, touched his master with its smoking nostrils,
then lifting its head, neighed long and low. The dragoons retreated.

"So perish all the persecutors of Israel!" cried the leader, brandishing
his carbine. He then dashed down into the ravine, picked up Captain
Poul's sabre and jumped upon his horse. The animal, faithful to its old
master, showed some signs of resistance, but soon felt by the pressure of
its rider's knees that it had to do with one whom it could not readily
unseat. Nevertheless, it reared and bounded, but the horseman kept his
seat, and as if recognising that it had met its match, the noble animal
tossed its head, neighed once more, and gave in. While this was going
on, a party of Camisards [Name given to the insurgent Calvinists after
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.--Translator's Note.] and one of
the dragoons had got down into the ravine, which had in consequence been
turned into a battlefield; while those who remained above on either side
took advantage of their position to fire down at their enemies. M. de
Dourville, in command of the dragoons, fought among the others like a
simple soldier, and received a serious wound in the head; his men
beginning to lose ground, M. de Brogue tried to rally them, but without
avail, and while he was thus occupied his own troop ran away; so seeing
there was no prospect of winning the battle, he and a few valiant men who
had remaine