'Well, my Lord Dundrennan,' said the Marquis, as they galloped side by side; 'how felt you in your first charge to-day?' 'A glorious disregard alike of death and fear!' was the proud reply; 'and I am sure that such was the feeling of us all.' The rout of so superior a body of horse was entirely attributed, by the Duc de Lavalette, to the skill and fury with which we advanced; for cavalry when charging, should always trot gently for about a hundred paces, and thereafter increase their speed until they attain a full and furious gallop, closing to the croup when within twenty paces of the enemy; but such was the celerity with which our hundred cuirassiers advanced, that we charged fully two thousand paces, boot to boot, without breaking; and it may fairly be admitted, that when horsemen have achieved this point of perfection they would ride through a stone rampart--they are fit for anything. The field, or rather the roadway where this skirmish took place, was strewed with dead and wounded. After the former were stripped and the baggage plundered, one could get any article of attire for a twentieth part of its value. A Parmese dagger, for a franc. A velvet coat laced with gold, for five francs. A sword, a hat and feathers, for a pot of stroh wine. Our petardiers blew up the barrier gates of Bitche, which were feebly defended by the town guard and a few old soldiers armed with partizans. The castle was stormed by the light horse, who were dismounted for that service; and who, in their anxiety to wipe out the disgrace of their late repulse, acted with great cruelty, 'sparing,' as the Marquis de Toneins told us, 'none but the ugly and the poor.' We blew up the magazines, spiked the guns, and set the town on fire; and as the old song says, 'When churches and houses blazed all in a flame, With _tan-ta-ra-ra_, away we all came!' CHAPTER XXII. A DANGEROUS BOAST. 'In the poor Master of St. Monance we have lost a gallant comrade,' said I, as we began our march the next morning. 'He fell in battle, Blanerne,' said the Marquis; 'well--a Scottish gentleman--a cadet of the house of Calder--has nothing more to ask.' After receiving the sacrament and twenty rounds of ball cartridge, we advanced towards La Mothe, the operations before which were full of chivalrous little episodes.