XVII.

But Blanca’s sire with dexterous weapon cut The Frenchman’s rein, and pricked his foaming steed. Unchecked, the charger instant wheeled about, And from the battle fled at utmost speed, The bridle Jules deserting in his need. Shouted the enraged hussar, and spurred, and cursed, But faster flew the horse from guidance freed. The troop soon followed--of the fray the worst Was theirs--and from the Basques the cheer of victory burst.