Poor Nicholas was gone! I knew that thrust, and once received there was nothing for it but masses for the soul. A half-dozen troopers were not two hundred yards away, and life lay on the other side of the Eure. I went straight on, and jumped my horse into the stream. It was running high and deep, and as I fell into the water with a splash and hiss of white foam around me, I heard another heavy plunge close to my shoulder, and, in the glance I cast towards the sound, saw that it was the now riderless Couronne, who had followed her companion of the night. To ease the horse, I slipped from the saddle, and, hanging on to the pommel, was towed along by him as the good beast breasted the stream bravely. _Pardieu!_ How the yellow water grumbled and foamed and bubbled around us. The current set towards the opposite bank, and the force of it carried us down, it seemed in a moment, fully fifty yards from the spot where we had plunged in, to within a few feet of the opposite shore. Here, however, the river ran strong and swiftly, the bank was high, and the horses could make no headway, but kept drifting down. By this time the troopers had reached the scene of the fight, and I could hear them howling with anger as they gathered around their fallen leaders, and, without a head to guide them, hesitated what to do, each moment of delay giving me precious time, and bringing me closer to a shelving bank a few yards to the left. Not one of the troopers dared the stream, and they had apparently emptied their arquebuses after us in pursuit, for none fired, although they called to each other, 'Shoot him down--shoot him down!'