secured a horse for my friend, and again we plunged into the
thick of the fight. We soon became engaged with three knights which
were like to have done for us, had not,--when we were sorely
pressed--an arrow struck one of their horses, causing it to fall. The
rider fell with his leg underneath, and so was unable to take any
further part in the fight. I pressed my opponent from the first, and
soon had him at my mercy. I gave him an opportunity to surrender, but
as he refused to do so, I waited until his arm was raised for a blow,
when, with my shield held over my head, I drove my sword straight under
his arm, where the armour divides. I heard my point strike his harness
on the other side, as it went through his body, so great was the force
of the blow.

Hot and furious was now the fight. The enemy were fleeing in all
directions, and our gallant troops were pressing them full hard. Loud
blew the trumpets, the signal for the continuance of the slaughter.
Berwick itself must now be carried whilst our blood was still at fever
heat. I looked around to see how fared my friend, in his contest with
the knight with whom I had seen him engaged. No sight could I see of
either of them; but there was Harleston's horse straying riderless
about the field. I recognized it by the peculiarity of its housing. A
great sadness did then possess me, for I did greatly fear that my dear
friend must have fallen at the hand of his opponent. "Indeed he must
be dead," said I; "else how could his steed be riderless?" Then did I
swear a great and savage oath of vengeance. "For his life an hundred
Scots shall die, and still shall he be but poorly paid for." Thus did
I think; for during the short time in which I had known Sir Frederick I
had learned to love this noble knight, better far than I would a
brother.

Our forces came on, eager to avenge the loss of their comrades which
had fallen that day, and these amounted to a considerable number. Now
and then a small body of the foe were driven to bay, and seldom were
they spared. I seemed to be changed into a demon, with the thirst for
blood. Every one of the enemy that did fall into my hands, I
slaughtered, and felt a savage delight in doing it. Ah! the fierce
delirium of victory.

When we reached the walls of Berwick a white flag was flying from the
Citadel; so the battle was over, and we were stopped from pursuing the
fleeing foe. Berwick was taken, and the war was ended; though