The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and IIJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Man-at-Arms; or, Henry De Cerons. Volumes I and II
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Huguenots -- Fiction
Drawing back as quietly and stealthily as possible, we passed round a
small bank of osiers which grew by a little stream, and then clearly
distinguished the tents to which I had been directed by the lights
which were seen scattered here and there, and which came dim and
enlarged through the mist. I now found the description which the man
had given so accurate, that could tell perfectly where I was at every
step; and numbering the tents onward from a large pavilion belonging
to Martigue, the fiftieth tent on that side, brought me to the spot
where the Baron de Blancford was said to be lodged.
We had ridden slowly along, skirting the bank of osiers which I have
mentioned upon a little eminence between it and the enemy's camp, and
stationing my arquebusiers and spare lances behind with the led
horses, just covered by the brow, I dismounted with the party assigned
to enter the camp. Taking our sacks upon our backs, we approached the
tents; and, to say the truth, the enterprise was both somewhat
hazardous to the undertakers thereof if it failed, and somewhat rash,
at all events. If we were taken--though we were in arms, and had every
signal of the Protestant party about us--it was not at all improbable
that, in those days, we should be hanged at once for spies. However,
we were not persons to be much daunted by the thought of consequences,
and we walked boldly forward towards the tents.
As we had skirted along from the village to the spot where I had
halted my men, we had seen nothing to give us any alarm. The buzz, the
noise, the merriment of a camp were heard, it is true, but were heard
from a distance towards the centre; and where we were there reigned
all the stillness and quietness of the suburb. No sight was to be seen
indicating human life, except every now and then, beheld through the
canvassed street, some tall form, magnified by the mist, either
accidentally crossing the light of a watch-fire, or bending down to
stir it into a brighter blaze. Not a soldier who could help it put out
the unsheltered head in that intense frost; and as the wine in the
neighbourhood was cheap and abundant, every opportunity had been given
by the generals to keep up the warmth of the body by deep potations
taken in the tents and houses.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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