De Rone lifted his plumed hat in response to Madame d'Estrees' greeting, and the King, bowing slightly to us from his saddle, put his hand on the barb's reins, and turning the horse's head, galloped his mistress to a place of safety. As they reached the mound whereon the royal guidon was displayed, we heard the opening bars of the Pont d'Audemer march, and as they ceased a red tongue of flame licked out from behind a cornfield and a masked battery opened on us. CHAPTER III THE RED CORNFIELD 'M. le Marquis, the Conde de Leyva begs for help urgently.' 'Tell him I have none to give,' de Rone made answer from his big black charger Couronne. '_Sangdieu!_' he added under his breath, 'had we been but three hours earlier the Bearnais was lost.' The words were hardly out of his mouth when the cavalier to whom they were addressed threw up his arms with a scream, and falling forward from his horse, began to beat at the earth convulsively with his hands, whilst he gasped out his life. As the death glaze was covering his eyes, his empty saddle was filled by a figure that rose up like a sprite through the dim smoke, and Belin's even voice was heard. 'Poor Garabay! But my horse was shot under me an hour ago, and this one will do me excellently. Shall I carry your message, General?' 'I claim the honour. Marquis; do not deny me, Belin. I have been idle too long,' and I pressed forward as I spoke. 'Oh, I yield to you, d'Auriac! there is work enough for me at the other end; the bear of Aumale is dancing to a fine tune there,' and Belin reined back, whilst de Rone nodded assent, with a meaning in his look that I alone understood. I needed no second bidding, but turning my Norman's rein, galloped down the blazing line of battle. If I escaped through the day, which to my mind was already lost, I knew full well that de Rone, smarting under disappointment and chagrin at defeat, would be in no temper for mercy, and would certainly keep his word to me.