When I recovered in some degree, I found myself in bed in a very comfortable room, with a gentleman in the dress of a surgeon beside me, and two or three attendants around. I have only a vague recollection, however, of what passed on that occasion, for I was during the whole night in a state approaching delirium, with wild images of the battle and its consequences rising up before my mind the moment I closed my eyes to sleep. Now I was in the midst of the enemy, again fighting hand to hand with Martigue; then he suddenly changed to the Prince de Condé, and by some strange process of the imagination I became Montesquieu, and was about to shoot him under the bank, hating myself all the time for what I was doing, yet hurried on irresistibly to accomplish it. Then suddenly a strong hand seemed to seize me, and I found myself a prisoner; and at other times I beheld the gallant prince who had fallen, as he sat before the last fatal charge, raising his hand towards the white banner above his head, and addressing those last, terrible, memorable words to us who surrounded him. In such wild visions passed the whole night; but an hour or two before daybreak I fell into a somewhat sounder sleep, and when I woke, just after dawn, I found the Prince d'Auvergne sitting beside me, and speaking to one of the attendants. "Oh, is that you, monseigneur," I said, turning partly towards him. "Yes, Monsieur de Cerons," he replied, "I did not like to disturb you, because the attendant tells me you have had a bad night; but, as you are awake, I may as well ask you if there is anything that I can do for you this morning, as I am going with the rest of the officers to the field of battle, to see the loss on either side, and to make arrangements in regard to the wounded and the dead. I fear that you must, like most of us, have some friend there." "Several, I doubt not, my lord," I replied; "but, of course, my principal care must be for my own people. Should you find among the prisoners or the wounded any men belonging to my band, I trust you will have them kindly treated for my sake. There is one poor lad, indeed, for whom I am anxious to make inquiries. He is named Andriot, and followed me to the field, not as a man-at-arms, but merely as an attendant; he fell upon the slope of the hill, about half a mile from Triac, in face of Monsieur de Brissac's arquebusiers." "I will not fail to make inquiries for him," replied the prince, "and for the others also; and I will report to you, as soon as I return, what has been done. It may be late, however, before I come back; and, in the mean time, I understand the surgeon has left especial orders that you should not quit your bed on any account whatever." I would fain have risen, but the prince insisted so strongly upon my obeying the surgeon's commands to the letter, that I promised him to do so, and soon found the benefit of yielding to better knowledge than my own.