displayed. This skill in making their dispositions was evidently due to
their having found a new leader whom no one knew, not even Captain Poul,
although they could see him at the head of his men, carbine in hand.

However, these scientific preparations did not stop M. de Brogue: he gave
the order to charge, and adding example to precept, urged his horse to a
gallop. The rebels in the first rank knelt on one knee, so that the rank
behind could take aim, and the distance between the two bodies of troops
disappeared rapidly, thanks to the impetuosity of the dragoons; but
suddenly, when within thirty paces of the enemy, the royals found
themselves on the edge of a deep ravine which separated them from the
enemy like a moat. Some were able to check their horses in time, but
others, despite desperate efforts, pressed upon by those behind, were
pushed into the ravine, and rolled helplessly to the bottom. At the same
moment the order to fire was given in a sonorous voice, there was a
rattle of musketry, and several dragoons near M. de Broglie fell.

"Forward!" cried Captain Poul, "forward!" and putting his horse at a part
of the ravine where the sides were less steep, he was soon struggling up
the opposite side, followed by a few dragoons.

"Death to the son of Belial!" cried the same voice which had given the
order to fire. At that moment a single shot rang out, Captain Poul threw
up his hands, letting his sabre go, and fell from his horse, which
instead of running away, touched his master with its smoking nostrils,
then lifting its head, neighed long and low. The dragoons retreated.

"So perish all the persecutors of Israel!" cried the leader, brandishing
his carbine. He then dashed down into the ravine, picked up Captain
Poul's sabre and jumped upon his horse. The animal, faithful to its old