"Look! look, Sir! look!" cried one of the men, pointing forward to the sky: but the eyes of his master, and of all the party were already fixed on the same spot, where, in the midst of the heaven, one of the most extraordinary phenomena of nature was suddenly presented to them. For a space of several degrees the clouds seemed to have rolled back, and were seen piled up, in enormous masses on either hand, like the scenes flanking a wide stage, while between them spread out an expanse of pale whitish light, with a red wavy streak below, resembling a plain which has caught the purple rays of the setting sun. On either hand, from amongst the masses of vapour, appeared to dash forth bodies of fiery combatants, horse and foot mingled together, rushing, charging, overthrowing each other, now mixed in furious combat, now separating for a moment, now chasing each other over the field. Again and again the squadrons met, as if in deadly shock, and balls of fire, as of some unearthly cannonade, crossed the sky in the midst of that strange scene, till at length, while the fight seemed still going on, the clouds once more rolled over the whole, and all returned to darkness.[1] "This is very strange," exclaimed Louis de Montigni: "I have heard of such a thing; but I never believed it before." "We shall have a battle soon, Sir," said one of the men. "I wish we could have seen which party won the day." "The King's, to be sure," replied another; "did you not see how he drove them back?" "And which do you call the King's?" asked the young Baron, smiling to see how readily imagination had seized upon the strange sight they had beheld, to turn it to the purposes of superstition. "That on the right, Sir," answered the man. "The King has the right, I am sure; and besides, I saw him in the front rank with a large plume in his casque." "My eyes were not so good," said De Montigni. "Did you ever see the King, Hugh?" "Not I, Sir," replied the attendant; "but I am certain that was he, and his horse was as red as blood." His master said nothing in return, but rode on slowly, conversing in a low tone with Rose d'Albret, while from time to time the lightning flashed across their path, but less vividly than before; and ere long the rain began to fall again, and the thunder ceased. Now came the most fatiguing part of the journey, for the narrow path which they were following entered the hilly and wooded country about Montlandon and Champrond en Gatine, and they were forced to climb and descend continually, over a road on which the snow was but half melted and the mud up to the fetlocks of their horses, while still the torrents poured down from the sky, drenching their garments through and through. The wind had totally ceased, but the air was more sultry and close than ever; and both horses and riders suffered much from its oppressive warmth.