H. C. Bailey

“ Raoul sat thinking.
"Always," says he in that History of Myself, "always I had an eye and a mind for ground. Once seen I knew it forever, or by day or by night." He had, in fact, a dog's sense of place and direction. Wrapped in the wet darkness, he saw clear all around him, the line of poplars close by, the willow clump a gunshot off, the dikes and the sluggish river. He knew the oblong camp, the post of the cavalry on either horn, the park of the guns and powder in the midst of the rearward line.
At last Raoul gathered up his reins and rode down to Taddeo's dead company. ”

“ With these flung about him he rode off, the scattered, riderless horses of Taddeo's men neighing at him out of the mist. And then something bulky leaped at him, big hands gripped his bridle arm, a great weight dragged him down. "Butcher, I have you now," growled a hoarse Dutch voice.
"I was looking for you," said Raoul, placidly, as he put his dagger to the man's throat and let him feel the point of it. "Do not make me kill you." ”

“ Taddeo's men and the fleeing wagoners came in a heap between two dikes, two dikes that suddenly blazed yellow and roared with musketry. In a few minutes all was done. Taddeo's company was a tumbled mass on the wet, brown earth,
"So Messer Taddeo has gone to the devil," said Raoul. "I do not envy the devil." Raoul shaded his eyes and surveyed the situation. Those efficient musketeers who had settled Messer Taddeo's account with this world were now giving all their energy to retreat; the main body of the Spaniards was hurrying up; but Raoul had the time he needed. ”

“ Mother Martha began to protest. The girl was worn out with a long journey. She needed rest and food. In the morning—in the morning—and Elsa at last hung limp on the Spaniard's arms, fainting.
Don Julian shrugged his shoulders.
"There is too little blood in her," said he, then turned to the soldiers. "Clear the next tent, you, and bear her in. Comfort her, Mother Martha. By the Virgin, you should do it well."
Two of them lifted the girl, and as they turned Don Julian thought again of Raoul. "Now, rascal, what are you?"
"A poor gentleman, Excellency, who needs fifty ducats." ”

“ The man dropped off him and Raoul reined swiftly away. He remembered the bill hook. "If you will not be so stupid you shall save her."
"You are a liar and a rogue. And the Spaniards have taken her."
"I am what I am. And you shall take her again."
"It is now no use," the Dutchman groaned; "they have had her in their camp. Ach, Gott! Why did you not let me kill her?"
"It is always worth while to live, corbleu. Also you can kill her yet. That is her affair. I suppose you have not had the sense to catch a horse."
"I do not want a horse," said the Dutchman, dully. ”

“ But Raoul had galloped round the camp and he sprang down and tethered his horse to a poplar and ran in on foot. And the Dutchman went with him still. No one heeded them. All men were running wildly in that hour. Only Raoul was quite sure of his purpose. He held the Dutchman's arm as he ran and: "Kill her or save her, there she is," he muttered and jerked him round at the tent where Elsa lay. Then Raoul himself ran. He sought things more profitable.
Raoul peeped into Don Julian's tent. It was empty of men, and he sprang in—then through a bustling minute feared it was empty of money, too. ”

“ They say Don Julian is gentle."
That stirred the Spaniards to mirth again. They wheeled round and the girl, sobbing out her shame, was dragged on between two of them. Her woman, quite composed, followed behind. And Raoul led the way with the air (he says it himself) of a conqueror.
The Spanish tents were rising in the gloom, foul, tattered brown canvas, ill pitched. Fires crackled and sputtered and smoked. A swearing throng beset the food wagons, and men fought each other for their rations. ”

“ Over them, about them, blazing splinters hurled and hissed, maddened horses broke from their pickets and charged over tents and men, and still the powder shot forth fresh flame and roar and the soldiers fled hither and hither, cursing in many tongues. ”