Down one street and through a narrow lane we thundered,until a broken gateway stopped with fascines--through which the Cid blundered and stumbled--brought us at a bound into the Scholars'
Meadow just as the tardy sun broke through the clouds and flooded the low,wide plain with brightness.Half a league in front of us the towers of Meudon rose to view on a hill.In the distance,to the left,lay the walls of Paris,and nearer,on the same side,a dozen forts and batteries;while here and there,in that quarter,a shining clump of spears or a dense mass of infantry betrayed the enemy's presence.
I heeded none of these things,however,nor anything except the towers of Meudon,setting the Cid's head straight for these and riding on at the top of his speed.Swiftly ditch and dyke came into view before us and flashed away beneath us.Men lying in pits rose up and aimed at us;or ran with cries to intercept us.
A cannon-shot fired from the fort by Issy tore up the earth to one side;a knot of lancers sped from the shelter of an earthwork in the same quarter,and raced us for half a mile,with frantic shouts and threats of vengeance.But all such efforts were vanity.The Cid,fired by this sudden call upon his speed,and feeling himself loosed--rarest of events--to do his best,shook the foam from his bit,and opening his blood-red nostrils to the wind,crouched lower and lower;until his long neck,stretched out before him,seemed,as the sward swept by,like the point of an arrow speeding resistless to its aim.
God knows,as the air rushed by me and the sun shone in my face,I cried aloud like a boy,and though I sat still and stirred neither hand nor foot,lest I should break the good Sard's stride,I prayed wildly that the horse which I had groomed with my own hands and fed with my last crown might hold on unfaltering to the end.For I dreamed that the fate of a nation rode in my saddle;and mindful alike of Simon's words,'Bid him look to himself,'and of my own notion that the League would not be so foolish as to remove one enemy to exalt another,I thought nothing more likely than that,with all my fury,I should arrive too late,and find the King of Navarre as I had left the King of France.
In this strenuous haste I covered a mile as a mile has seldom been covered before;and I was growing under the influence of the breeze which whipped my temples somewhat more cool and hopeful,when I saw on a sudden right before me,and between me and Meudon,a handful of men engaged in a MELEE.There were red and white jackets in it--leaguers and Huguenots--and the red coats seemed to be having the worst of it.Still,while I watched,they came off in order,and unfortunately in such a way and at such a speed that I saw they must meet me face to face whether Itried to avoid the encounter or not.I had barely time to take in the danger and its nearness,and discern beyond both parties the main-guard of the Huguenots,enlivened by a score of pennons,when the Leaguers were upon me.
I suppose they knew that no friend would ride for Meudon at that pace,for they dashed at me six abreast with a shout of triumph;and before I could count a score we met.The Cid was still running strongly,and I had not thought to stay him,so that Ihad no time to use my pistols.My sword I had out,but the sun dazzled me and the men wore corslets,and I made but poor play with it;though I struck out savagely,as we crashed together,in my rage at this sudden crossing of my hopes when all seemed done and gained.The Cid faced them bravely--I heard the distant huzza of the Huguenots--and I put aside one point which threatened my throat.But the sun was in my eyes and something struck me on the head.Another second,and a blow in the breast forced me fairly from the saddle.Gripping furiously at the air I went down,stunned and dizzy,my last thought as I struck the ground being of mademoiselle,and the little brook with the stepping-stones.
