tide might be against him, but Thoulouse never dreamed of deserting his colors.
A loud noise in the distance attracted his attention. Two soldiers ran into the commander's presence with the joyful announcement, “The Beggar Prince is coming! Our friends are in sight!”
Thoulouse looked at the advancing host. There were no banners visible, and there was nothing to indicate that they were other than Count Brederode’s auxiliaries, whom he had agreed to send from Holland. Great joy prevailed in the camp atOosterweel. “Allies are coming! Our victory is assured!” the soldiers shouted joyously.
Only for a brief moment were they deluded. The advancing host unfurled its standards, and Spanish colors fluttered in the breeze! Trumpets sounded the assault. On the still morning air rangout the fierce battle-cry: “Santiago! Santiago! Sancta Maria! On to victory!” And down the low hill swept the Spanish cavalry like a wave of destruction.
Fear made cowards of the undisciplined rebels. Like frightened sheep, a part of them obeyed the instinctive desire to flee the danger, even though flight was the one thing which would aggravate their peril.
Thoulouse, with wonderful presence of mind, gathered the remnant of his force together and called out to the fugitives to keep within the shel-
