Only Pothon de Xaintrailles, and the gentlemen with him, as knowing the manner of war, saved and held to ransom certain knights, as Messire Jacques de Brimeu, the Seigneur de Crepy, and others; while, for my own part, seeing a knight assailed by a knot of clubmen, I struck in on his part, for gentle blood must ever aid gentle blood, and so, not without shrewd blows on my salade, I took to ransom Messire Collart de Bertancourt.
Thereafter, very late, and in the twilight of October the twenty-fifth, we turned back to Compiegne, leaving the enemies' bastille in a flame behind us, while in front were blazing the bonfires of the people of the good town.

And, in Compiegne, we heard how the English and the main army of Burgundians had turned, late in the day, and crossed by the Duke of Burgundy's bridge, leaving men to keep guard there.

So our victory was great, and wise had been the prudence of the French captains, subtlety being the mother of victory; for, without a blow struck, they had kept Jean de Luxembourg, and the Earls of Huntingdon and Arundel, waiting idle all day, while their great bastille was taken by Xaintrailles and the townsfolk, and food was brought into Compiegne.

Thus for the second time I passed a night of joy in a beleaguered town, for there was music in every street, the churches full of people praising God for this great deliverance, men and maids dancing around bonfires, yet good watch was kept at the gates and on the towers.

Next day we expected battle, but our spies brought in tidings that Burgundians and English had decamped in the dawn, their men deserting.