"There Martin, for such is your name, take the nag again to yourself and do what you will with him." With these words he dismounted, and betook himself to the carriage, where he was first obliged to listen to many self-praises from his coachman, who wished to appropriate to himself the whole credit of this clever retreat, and on account of whose over-haste, the Lord of Beauvais abashed, entreated the pardon of his old friend. "It was no over-haste," cried Vila, "but the most prudent that could have occurred, I ought to have remained sitting in the carriage, for my little bit of firing was like a drop in the stream compared to the bravery of the Camisards; with them none of us can engage. These knaves understand no reason, whether balls fly, or swords glitter, it is to them mere pastime, and the smallest boys, who are scarcely weaned from their mother's breast, are just as much infatuated with this devilry as any of the oldest grey beards. I have seen that, for once quite close, which I could not have believed by hearsay; but now that I have witnessed it, it is enough for the rest of my life." They stopped at a lonely inn to refresh the horses, and while they were enjoying their breakfast the doctor proceeded to relate the sequel of the event to his old friend. "How fortunate." he commenced, "that you were not present at our battle, for only think, your Edmond continued to accompany us, he would not be dissuaded from attending in person to your safety. When the scene now opened he was ever foremost. There was a young lad, who then came forward. 'From whence come you?' shouted the Camisards.--'What's that to you,' answered the impudent fellow,--'You are a traitor.'--'Wherefore insult,' cried the little man, 'honest people act not thus.'--'Hew him down!' cried another.--'Hew me down;' said the hop of my thumb, 'when I would sacrifice my life for you.'--'Who art thou?' was again reiterated.--'My name is Martin, further it is not necessary for you to know.'--Inquiry was cut short by firing and hewing down. It came near me, and I felt a goose-skin all over my body. I had already spent my powder without, perhaps, having hit any one, when the gigantic Lacoste took compassion on my trouble, and hewed down the knaves together as if they had been merely poppy heads. But Edmond who tried to cut his way through to me, got into a desperate mêlée. Two dragoons fell upon him, and struck furiously; but before they were able to hit, behold, my dear friend--the little rascal Martin, cut down one of them from his horse, and shot the other at the same moment almost through the breast, as if the urchin had been accustomed to nothing else all his life long. The stout Lacoste, the dog as he styles himself, was not tardy either, and your son lost neither courage nor strength; the Camisards were like so many devils, and thus those of the true faith were obliged to leave the field to us, on which a great number of their friends remained lying.--I could not