minutes it was the Unknown's only task to defend himself
from the tremendous activity of the enemy.

But even the Rowski's strength would slacken after exertion. The blows
began to fall less thick anon, and the point of the unknown knight
began to make dreadful play. It found and penetrated every joint of
the Donnerblitz's armor. Now it nicked him in the shoulder where the
vambrace was buckled to the corselet; now it bored a shrewd hole under
the light brissart, and blood followed; now, with fatal dexterity, it
darted through the visor, and came back to the recover deeply
tinged with blood. A scream of rage followed the last thrust; and no
wonder:--it had penetrated the Rowski's left eye.

His blood was trickling through a dozen orifices; he was almost choking
in his helmet with loss of breath, and loss of blood, and rage.
Gasping with fury, he drew back his horse, flung his great sword at his
opponent's head, and once more plunged at him, wielding his curtal-axe.

Then you should have seen the unknown knight employing the same dreadful
weapon! Hitherto he had been on his defence; now he began the attack;
and the gleaming axe whirred in his hand like a reed, but descended like
a thunderbolt! "Yield! yield! Sir Rowski," shouted he, in a calm, clear
voice.

A blow dealt madly at his head was the reply. 'Twas the last blow that
the Count of Eulenschreckenstein ever struck in battle! The curse was on
his lips as the crushing steel descended into his brain, and split it
in two. He rolled like a log from his horse: his enemy's knee was in
a moment on his chest, and the dagger of mercy at his throat, as the
knight once more called upon him to yield.

But there was no answer from within the helmet. When it was withdrawn,
the teeth were crunched together; the mouth that should have spoken,
grinned a ghastly silence: one eye still glared with hate and fury, but
it was glazed with the film of death!

The red orb of the sun was just then dipping into the Rhine. The unknown
knight, vaulting once more into his saddle, made a graceful obeisance to
the Prince of Cleves and his daughter, without a word, and galloped back
into the forest, whence he had issued an hour before sunset.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE MARRIAGE.

The consternation which ensued on the death of the Rowski, speedily sent
all his camp-followers, army, &c. to the right-about. They struck their
tents at the first news of his discomfiture; and each man laying hold