master, showed some signs of resistance, but soon felt by the pressure of
its rider's knees that it had to do with one whom it could not readily
unseat. Nevertheless, it reared and bounded, but the horseman kept his
seat, and as if recognising that it had met its match, the noble animal
tossed its head, neighed once more, and gave in. While this was going
on, a party of Camisards [Name given to the insurgent Calvinists after
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.--Translator's Note.] and one of
the dragoons had got down into the ravine, which had in consequence been
turned into a battlefield; while those who remained above on either side
took advantage of their position to fire down at their enemies. M. de
Dourville, in command of the dragoons, fought among the others like a
simple soldier, and received a serious wound in the head; his men
beginning to lose ground, M. de Brogue tried to rally them, but without
avail, and while he was thus occupied his own troop ran away; so seeing
there was no prospect of winning the battle, he and a few valiant men who
had remained near him dashed forward to extricate M. Dourville, who,
taking advantage of the opening thus made, retreated, his wound bleeding
profusely. On the other hand, the Camisards perceiving at some distance
bodies of infantry coming up to reinforce the royals, instead of pursuing
their foes, contented themselves with keeping up a thick and
well-directed musketry-fire from the position in which they had won such
a quick and easy victory.

As soon as the royal forces were out of reach of their weapons, the rebel
chief knelt down and chanted the song the Israelites sang when, having
crossed the Red Sea in safety, they saw the army of Pharaoh swallowed up
in the waters, so that although no longer within reach of bullets the
defeated troops were still pursued by songs of victory. Their
thanksgivings ended, the Calvinists withdrew into the forest, led by
their new chief, who had at his first assay shown the great extent of his