no questions; the sight of the flag was sufficient. A body of infantry
barred our path; we turned neither to right nor left, but crashed
straight through them. A few foot-soldiers ran with us, holding by the
stirrups, going cheerfully to death, rather than seek safety in shameful
flight.

Suddenly a burst of cheering in a foreign tongue reached us. "Hurrah!
Hurrah! For the Admiral!" and a troop of horse came tearing down. It was
the band of gallant Englishmen, and I recognized Roger Braund still
bearing the captured trophy. Fearing they might mistake us for royalists
I rode forward hastily, crying in English, "Friends! Friends! We are
Huguenots!"




CHAPTER XII

The Return to Rochelle


The conference was brief. "Have you seen Count Louis?" I asked their
leader.

"No, monsieur, but we will help you to find him. Forward, brave boys;
another blow for the Cause!"

They replied with a cheer--oh, how those Englishmen cheered!--and we
raced on together, French and English, side by side, and death all
around us. I glanced at Roger; he had been wounded again, but there was