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
It seems that I was instantly recognised, for they stopped, and some
advanced towards me, while, pointing with my hand towards the spot
which Moric had indicated as the ford, I shouted to them to ride in
that way with all speed.
People in a fright, however, never understand anything that is said to
them, and they did not obey my directions till I reached them, so that
by the time we got them to the side of the river, and some of the
horses into the water, the enemy were close upon us. It seemed to me
just like one of the military games which I had been accustomed to
play with the old retainers and my young cousins. With Moric Endem and
Andriot, I turned my horse upon the pursuers; the lad Martin rode up
in a minute to my side; one of his uncles could not resist following;
and, by a sudden and unexpected charge, we drove the enemy back, who
paused for a moment's consideration before they followed us again.
"Now, seigneur," cried Moric, "quick over the stream, for the river is
coming down like fury, and in ten minutes more will be impassable. We
can easily keep the opposite bank when we are over."
I had remarked that the water was up to the girths of the horses'
saddles when the party of merchants passed, and therefore, without
more ado, I gave the necessary order for crossing the stream. We found
that the little river Saye, like some of the others that flow into the
Isle, subject to a sudden increase, had become a complete torrent in
consequence of the rain which had fallen during the night, and was
swelling every moment, coming down in large brown eddies, which nearly
carried our horses off their feet. The two merchants who had remained
with us and Andriot passed first, and I followed, thinking that my
friend Moric was close behind me; but, in charging the Catholics, one
of them had been struck to the ground, slightly wounded, near the bank
of the stream, and Moric's fondness for plunder could not be
restrained. The man-at-arms, indeed, had run away, but the horse had
somehow got his feet entangled with the bridle, and remained very
soberly lying on the ground.
Turning round when I had half crossed the stream, I perceived my
worthy follower busily employed upon the saddle, and shouted to him
that the enemy were upon him. He looked up, however, calculated the
distance nicely, finished the operation of cutting the girths with his
dagger, threw the rich saddle and its caparisons on the crupper of his
own horse, sprang upon his back in a moment, and plunged into the
river, with the spears of the Catholics close at his horse's flanks.
The water had risen some inches since I had passed; his horse was not
quite so tall as mine, and for a few feet had to swim; but Moric Endem
was never at all discomposed by any such little adventure; and,
keeping his spurs close to the horse's sides, brought him to land, not
more than a few yards below the spot where the rest were standing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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