The Flemings recognized him, and opened their ranks, crying, joyfully, “Monseigneur! monseigneur!” Joyeuse and his men saw the movement, heard the cries, and all at once found themselves opposed to a new troop.  Joyeuse pushed his horse toward the black knight, and their swords met.  Joyeuse was confident in his armor and his science, but all his thrusts were skillfully parried, and one of those of his adversary touched him, and in spite of his armor, drew some drops of blood from his shoulder.

“Ah!” cried the young admiral, “this man is a Frenchman, and what is more, he has studied fencing under the same master as I have.”

At these words the unknown turned away, and tried to find a new antagonist.

“If you are French,” cried Joyeuse, “you are a traitor, for you fight against your king, your country, and your flag.”

The unknown only replied by attacking Joyeuse with fresh fury; but now Joyeuse was on his guard, and knew with what a skillful swordsman he had to deal.  He parried two or three thrusts with as much skill as fury, and it was now the stranger who made a step back.

“See!” cried Joyeuse, “what one can do fighting for one’s country!  A pure heart and a loyal arm suffice to defend a head without a helmet, a face without a vizor;” and he threw his helmet far from him, displaying his noble and beautiful head, with eyes sparkling with pride, youth and anger.

His antagonist forebore answer, uttered a cry, and struck at his bare head.

“Ah!” cried Joyeuse, parrying the blow, “I said you were a traitor, and as a traitor you shall die.  I will kill you, and carry off this helmet which hides and defends you, and hang you to the first tree that I see.”

[Illustration:  “I said you were A traitor, and as A traitor you shall die.”]

But at this moment a cavalier cried: 

“Monseigneur, no more skirmishing; your presence is wanted over there.”

Glancing toward the point indicated, the unknown saw the Flemings giving way before the Calvinist cavalry.

“Yes,” cried he, “those are the men I wanted.”

At this moment so many cavaliers pressed on the sailors, that they made their first step in retreat.

The black cavalier profited by this movement to disappear in the melee.

A quarter of an hour after the French began to give way.  M. de St. Aignan tried to retreat in good order, but a last troop of 2,000 infantry and 500 horse came out fresh from the city, and fell on this harassed and already retreating army.  It was the old band of the Prince of Orange, which had fought in turns against the Duc d’Alva, Don John, Requesens, and Alexander Farnese.  In spite of the coolness of the chiefs and the bravery of many, a frightful rout commenced.