“So saying, he lifted me carefully upon his back and started off, picking his way cautiously over the stones. He must have been about thirty years old at that time, and was as strong as a giant; yet I doubted much if we should escape, for a couple of horsemen not more than a thousand paces away caught sight of us and gave chase. Luckily the Birs was not far, and Gerard well-nigh flew over the ground with me. Almost swooning, I still heard clearly the thundering hoof-beats behind us, as even now after all these years I often hear them in my dreams. Suddenly Gerard stumbled, and I fell heavily to the ground and rolled down a short declivity into the river. I thought all was over, but the cold water instantly restored me to consciousness. I was dipping it up with both hands and pouring it over my fevered brow and wounds, when my pursuer appeared above me on the bank. Finding his horse unable to clamber down the steep incline he dismounted. Again I took to flight and struggled on till the water rose to my breast; but by that time Gerard was once more at my side. Gaining the farther shore we looked back and found that our pursuer had not ventured into the water at all, but had already remounted and was making his way back to the camp. But my last remnant of strength was exhausted. My senses left me; and when I awoke to consciousness some days later under my father’s roof, my mother told me how Gerard had borne me along the river bank to a thicket, where he had waited till darkness fell; then, crossing the stream once more, he had brought me safely to the gates of the town. “The French had experienced quite enough of Swiss valor, and the Dauphin ordered a retreat, having no wish to sacrifice his people in a war which brought them small thanks from Austria, in whose behalf it was undertaken.” “Father,” asked Walter thoughtfully, “why did not the people of Basle come to your aid? Surely there were enough men there to help you, and together you could have defeated the enemy.” “At first,” replied the Councillor, “they did not know of our approach, and when the news reached them the Burgomaster and Council hastily met to decide what should be done. But some of the Councillors at that time were not of the bravest, and their first thought was for the safety of their own town. The report of our victories at Pratteln and Muttenz was said to have been spread by the enemy to draw away from Basle all who were capable of defending it. The burghers sat too long in debate, however. A workman in the public square snatched the banner of the town from the banneret’s hand in the corn market, shouting to the assembled throng, ‘Follow me, all who are true citizens of Basle!’