captains: "Turn, men-at-arms, turn, it is nothing!" The Good Knight's
company was hurried along with the others, but again and again he rallied
them, until at last he was left with only fourteen or fifteen men-at-arms
on a little bridge only wide enough for two horsemen to pass at a time,
while the stream was too deep to ford as it was dammed up to turn a mill.
Here Bayard came to a stand and cried to his companions: "My friends, we
can hold this bridge for an hour, and I will send an archer to tell my lord
of La Palisse that we have checked the enemy and this is the place to
attack them."

We can picture to ourselves how gallantly he fought, for he loved nothing
better than to defend a narrow bridge, but the pursuing army proved too
overwhelming, for a company of horsemen went round beyond the mill and
attacked the brave little party of defenders from behind. When Bayard saw
that their position was desperate, he cried: "Gentlemen, we yield
ourselves, for our valour will serve us nothing. Our horses are done up,
our friends are three leagues away, and when the English archers arrive
they will cut us to pieces." One by one the knights yielded, but Bayard saw
a Burgundian gentleman on the bank who, overcome by the great heat of that
August day, had taken off his "armet" (helmet) and was too exhausted to
think about taking prisoners. The Good Knight rode straight at him, held
his sword at the man's throat and cried: "Yield, man-at-arms, or you are
dead." Never was man more surprised than this Burgundian, who thought that
all the fighting was over, but with the cold steel threatening him there
was nothing for him but surrender. "I yield, as I am taken in this way, but
who are you?" he asked.

"I am the Captain Bayard and I also yield myself to you," was the reply.
"Take my sword, and I pray you let me go with you." So he was taken to the
English camp and well treated by the gentleman in his tent; but on the