In fact, they saw the soldiers running to their arms; the trumpets sounded; the drums beat; the Duc de Beaufort drew his sword. On his side the prince sounded a rappel and all the officers of the royalist army, mingling momentarily with the Parisian troops, ran to him.
“Gentlemen,” cried Chatillon, “the truce is broken, that is evident; they are going to fight; go, then, into Charenton, for I shall begin in a short time — there’s a signal from the prince!”
The cornet of a troop had in fact just raised the standard of the prince.
“Farewell, till the next time we meet,” cried Chatillon, and he set off, full gallop.