they　spurred　their　horses　between　the　exhausted　men。
  Slowly　the　gallant　Beaumanoir　led　the　twenty…five　men　who　were
  left　to　their　original　station；　where　they　opened　their　visors　and
  threw　themselves　down　upon　the　grass；　panting　like　weary　dogs；　and
  wiping　the　sweat　from　their　bloodshot　eyes。　　A　pitcher　of　wine　of
  Anjou　was　carried　round　by　a　page；　and　each　in　turn　drained　a　cup；
  save　only　Beaumanoir　who　kept　his　Lent　with　such　strictness　that
  neither　food　nor　drink　might　pass　his　lips　before　sunset。　　He
  paced　slowly　amongst　his　men；　croaking　forth　encouragement　from
  his　parched　lips　and　pointing　out　to　them　that　among　the　English
  there　was　scarce　a　man　who　was　not　wounded；　and　some　so　sorely
  that　they　could　hardly　stand。　　If　the　fight　so　far　had　gone
  against　them；　there　were　still　five　hours　of　daylight；　and　much
  might　happen　before　the　last　of　them　was　laid　upon　his　back。
  Varlets　had　rushed　forth　to　draw　away　the　two　dead　Bretons；　and　a
  brace　of　English　archers　had　carried　Nigel　from　the　field。　　With
  his　own　hands　Aylward　had　unlaced　the　crushed　helmet　and　had　wept
  to　see　the　bloodless　and　unconscious　face　of　his　young　master。　　He
  still　breathed；　however；　and　stretched　upon　the　grass　by　the
  riverside　the　bowman　tended　him　with　rude　surgery；　until　the　water
  upon　his　brow　and　the　wind　upon　his　face　had　coaxed　back　the　life
  into　his　battered　frame。　　He　breathed　with　heavy　gasps；　and　some
  tinge　of　blood　crept　hack　into　his　cheeks；　but　still　he　lay
  unconscious　of　the　roar　of　the　crowd　and　of　that　great　struggle
  which　his　comrades　were　now　waging　once　again。
  The　English　had　lain　for　a　space　bleeding　and　breathless；　in　no
  better　case　than　their　rivals；　save　that　they　were　still
  twenty…nine　in　number。　　But　of　this　muster　there　were　not　nine　who
  were　hale　men；　and　some　were　so　weak　from　loss　of　blood　that　they
  could　scarce　keep　standing。　　Yet；　when　the　signal　was　at　last
  given　to　reengage　there　was　not　a　man　upon　either　side　who　did　not
  totter　to　his　feet　and　stagger　forward　toward　his　enemies。
  But　the　opening　of　this　second　phase　of　the　combat　brought　one
  great　misfortune　and　discouragement　to　the　English。　　Bambro'　like
  the　others；　had　undone　his　visor；　but　with　his　mind　full　of　many
  cares　he　had　neglected　to　make　it　fast　again。　　There　was　an
  opening　an　inch　broad　betwixt　it　and　the　beaver。　　As　the　two　lines
  met　the　left…handed　Breton　squire；　Alain　de　Karanais；　caught　sight
  of　Bambro's　face；　and　in　an　instant　thrust　his　short　spear　through
  the　opening。　　The　English　leader　gave　a　cry　of　pain　and　fell　on
  his　knees；　but　staggered　to　his　feet　again；　too　weak　to　raise　his
  shield。　　As　he　stood　exposed　the　Breton　knight；　Geoffrey　Dubois
  the　Strong；　struck　him　such　a　blow　with　his　ax　that　he　beat　in　the
  whole　breast…plate　with　the　breast　behind　it。　　Bambro'　fell　dead
  upon　the　ground　and　for　a　few　minutes　a　fierce　fight　raged　round
  his　body。
  Then　the　English　drew　back；　sullen　and　dogged；　bearing　Bambro'
  with　them；　and　the　Bretons；　breathing　hard；　gathered　again　in
  their　own　quarter。　　At　the　same　instant　the　three　prisoners　picked
  up　such　weapons　as　were　scattered　upon　the　grass　and　ran　over　to
  join　their　own　party。
  〃Nay；　nay！〃　cried　Knolles；　raising　his　visor　and　advancing。　　〃This
  may　not　be。　　You　have　been　held　to　mercy　when　we　might　have　slain
  you；　and　by　the　Virgin　I　will　hold　you　dishonored；　all　three；　if
  you　stand　not　back。〃
  〃Say　not　so；　Robert　Knolles；〃　Evan　Cheruel　answered。　　〃Never　yet
  has　the　word　dishonor　been　breathed　with　my　name；　but　I　should
  count　myself　faineant　if　I　did　not　fight　beside　my　comrades　when
  chance　has　made　it　right　and　proper　that　I　should　do　so。〃
  〃By　Saint　Cadoc！　he　speaks　truly；〃　croaked　Beaumanoir；　advancing
  in　front　of　his　men。　　〃You　are　well　aware；　Robert；　that　it　is　the
  law　of　war　and　the　usage　of　chivalry　that　if　the　knight　to　whom
  you　have　surrendered　is　himself　slain　the　prisoners　thereby　become
  released。〃
  There　was　no　answer　to　this　and　Knolles；　weary　and　spent；　returned
  to　his　comrades。　　〃　I　would　that　we　had　slain　them；〃　said　he。　　〃We
  have　lost　our　leader　and　they　have　gained　three　men　by　the　same
  stroke。〃
  〃If　any　more　lay　down　their　arms　it　is　my　order　that　you　slay　them
  forthwith；〃　said　Croquart；　whose　bent　sword　and　bloody　armor
  showed　how　manfully　he　had　borne　himself　in　the　fray。　　〃And　now；
  comrades；　do　not　be　heavy…hearted　because　we　have　lost　our　leader。
  Indeed；　his　rhymes　of　Merlin　have　availed　him　little。　　By　the
  three　kings　of　Almain！　　I　can　teach　you　what　is　better　than　an　old
  woman's　prophecies；　and　that　is　that　you　should　keep　your
  shoulders　together　and　your　shields　so　close　that　none　can　break
  between　them。　　Then　you　will　know　what　is　on　either　side　of　you；
  and　you　can　fix　your　eyes　upon　the　front。　　Also；　if　any　be　so　weak
  or　wounded　that　he　must　sink　his　hands　his　comrades　on　right　and
  left　can　bear　him　up。　　Now　advance　all　together　in　God's　name；　for
  the　battle　is　still　ours　if　we　bear　ourselves　like　men。〃
  In　a　solid　line　the　English　advanced；　while　the　Bretons　ran
  forward　as　before　to　meet　them。　　The　swiftest　of　these　was　a
  certain　Squire；　Geoffrey　Poulart；　who　bore　a　helmet　which　was
  fashioned　as　a　cock's　head；　with　high　comb　above；　and　long　pointed
  beak　in　front　pierced　with　the　breathing…holes。　　He　thrust　with
  his　sword　at　Calverly；　but　Belford　who　was　the　next　in　the　line
  raised　his　giant　club　and　struck　him　a　crushing　blow　from　the
  side。　　He　staggered；　and　then　pushing　forth　from　the　crowd；　he　ran
  round　and　round　in　circles　as　one　whose　brain　is　stricken；　the
  blood　dripping　from　the　holes　of　his　brazen　beak。　　So　for　a　long
  time　he　ran；　the　crowd　laughing　and　cock…crowing　at　the　sight；
  until　at　last　he　stumbled　and　fell　stone…dead　upon　his　face。　　But
  the　fighters　had　seen　nothing　of　his　fate；　for　desperate　and
  unceasing　was　the　rush　of　the　Bretons　and　the　steady　advance　of
  the　English　line：
  For　a　time　it　seemed　as　if　nothing　would　break　it；　but　gap…toothed
  Beaumanoir　was　a　general　as　well　as　a　warrior。　　Whilst　his　weary；
  bleeding；　hard…breathing　men　still　flung　themselves　upon　the　front
  of　the　line；　he　himself　with　Raguenel；　Tentiniac；　Alain　de
  Karanais；　and　Dubois　rushed　round　the　flank　and　attacked　the
  English　with　fury　from　behind。　　There　was　a　long　and　desperate
  melee　until　once　more　the　heralds；　seeing　the　combatants　stand
  gasping　and　unable　to　strike　a　blow；　rode　in　and　called　yet
  another　interval　of　truce。
  But　in　those　few　minutes　whilst　they　had　been　assaulted　upon　both
  sides；　the　losses　of　the　English　party　had　been　heavy。　　The
  Anglo…Breton　D'Ardaine　had　fallen　before　Beaumanoir's　sword；　but
  not　before　he　had　cut　deeply　into　his　enemy's　shoulder。　　Sir
  Thomas　Walton；　Richard　of　Ireland　one　of　the　Squires；　and　Hulbitee
  the　big　peasant　had　all　fallen　before　the　mace　of　the　dwarf
  Raguenel　or　the　swords　of　his　companions。　　Some　twenty　men　were
  still　left　standing　upon　either　side；　but　all　were　in　the　last
  state　of　exhaustion；　gasping；　reeling；　hardly　capable　of　striking
  a　blow。
  It　was　strange　to　see　them　as　they　staggered　with　many　a　lurch　and
  stumble　toward　each　other　once　again；　for　they　moved　like　drunken
  men；　and　the　scales　of　their　neck…armor　and　joints　were　as　red　as
  fishes'　gills　when　they　raised　them　They　left　foul　wet　footprints
  behind　them　on　the　green　grass　as　they　moved　forward　once　more　to
  their　endless　contest。
  Beaumanoir；　faint　with　the　drain　of　his　blood　and　with　a　tongue　of
  leather；　paused　as　he　advanced。　　〃I　am　fainting；　comrades；〃　he
  cried。　　〃I　must　drink。〃
  〃Drink　your　own　blood；　Beaumanoir！〃　cried　Dubois；　and　the　weary
  men　all　croaked　together　in　dreadful　laughter。
  But　now　the　English　had　learned　from　experience；　and　under　the
  guidance　of　Croquart　they　fought　no　longer　in　a　straight　line；　but
  in　one　so　bent　that　at　last　it　became　a　circle。　　As　the　Bretons
  still　pushed　and　staggered　against　it　they　thrust　it　back　on　every
  side；　until　they　had　turned　it　into　the　most　dangerous　formation
  of　all；　a　solid　block　of　men；　their　faces　turned　outward；　their
  weapons　bristling　forth　to　meet　every　attack。　　Thus　the　English
  stood；　and　no　assault　could　move　them。　　They　could　lean　against
  each　other　back　to　back　while　they　waited　and　allowed　their　foemen
  to　tire　themselves　out。　　Again　and　again　the　gallant　Bretons　tried
  to　make　a　way　through。　　Again　and　again　they　were　beaten　back　by　a
  shower　of　blows。
  Beaumanoir；　his　head　giddy　with　fatigue；　opened　his　helmet　and
  gazed　in　despair　at　this　terrible；　unbreakable　circle。　　Only　too
  clearly　he　could　see　the　inevitable　result。　　His　men　were　wearing
  themselves　out。　　Already　many　of　them　could　scarce　stir　hand　or
  foot；　and　might　be　dead　for　any　aid　which　they　could　give　him　in
  winning　the　fight。　　Soon　all　would　be　in　the　same　plight。　　Then
  these　cursed　English　would　break　their　circle　to　swarm　over　his
  helpless　men　and　to　strike　them　down。　　Do　what　he　might；　he　could
  see　no　way　by　which　such　an　end　might　be　prevented。　　He　cast　his
  eyes　round　in　his　agony；　and　there　was　one　of　his　Bretons　slinking
  away　to　the　side　of　the　lists。　　He　could　scarce　credit　his　senses
  when　he　saw　by　the　scarlet　and　silver　that　the　deserter　was　his
  own　well…tried　squire；　William　of　M