"St.
Quentin! It was the tenth of August.

And you were new with me, and seized my rein--" "And we rode off together, my lord--of the last, of the last, as God sees me! And striking as we went, so that they left us for easier game." "It was so, good sword! I remember it as if it had been yesterday!" "And at Cerisoles, the Battle of the Plain, in the old Spanish wars, that was most like a joust of all the pitched fields I ever saw--at Cerisoles, where I caught your horse?
You mind me?
It was in the shock when we broke Guasto's line--" "At Cerisoles ?" Count Hannibal muttered slowly.

"Why, man, I--" "I caught your horse, and mounted you afresh?
You remember, my lord?
And at Landriano, where Leyva turned the tables on us again." Count Hannibal stared.

"Landriano ?" he muttered bluntly.

"'Twas in '29, forty years ago and more! My father, indeed--" "And at Rome--at Rome, my lord?
_Mon Dieu_! in the old days at Rome! When the Spanish company scaled the wall--Ruiz was first, I next--was it not my foot you held?
And was it not I who dragged you up, while the devils of Swiss pressed us hard?
Ah, those were days, my lord! I was young then, and you, my lord, young too, and handsome as the morning--" "You rave!" Tavannes cried, finding his tongue at last.