immediately against
his challenger. The sweep of the broadsword fell upon the barrel of
Horse Shoe's uplifted rifle, and in the next instant the broad hand of
our lusty yeoman had seized the trooper by the collar and dragged him
from his horse. The two soldiers came to the ground, locked in a mutual
embrace; and, for a brief moment, a desperate trial of strength was
exhibited in the effort to gain their feet.

"I have you there," said Robinson, as at length, with a flushed cheek,
quick breath, and blood-shot eye, he rose from the earth and shook the
dragoon from him, who fell backwards on his knee. "Curse you, James
Curry, for a fool and villain! You almost drive me, against my will, to
the taking of your life. I don't want your blood. You are beaten, man,
and must say so. I grant you quarter upon condition--"

"Look to yourself! I ask no terms from you," interrupted Curry, as
suddenly springing to his feet, he now made a second pass, which was
swung with such unexpected vigor at the head of his adversary, that
Horse Shoe had barely time to catch the blow, as before, upon his rifle.
The broadsword was broken by the stroke, and one of the fragments of the
blade struck the sergeant upon the forehead, inflicting a wound that
covered his face with blood. Horse Shoe reeled a step or two from his
ground, and clubbing the rifle, as it is called, by grasping the barrel
towards the muzzle, he paused but an instant to dash the blood from his
brow with his hand, and then, with one lusty sweep, to which his sudden
anger gave both precision and energy, he brought the piece full upon the
head of his foe, with such fatal effect as to bury the lock in the
trooper's brain, whilst the stock was shattered into splinters. Curry,
almost without a groan, fell dead across a ledge of rock at his feet.

"The grudge is done, and the fool has met his desarvings," was Horse
Shoe's brief comment upon the event, as he gazed sullenly, for an
instant, upon the dead corpse. He had no time to tarry. The rest of his
party were still engaged with the troopers of the guard, who now
struggled to preserve the custody of their prisoner. The bridle-rein of
Captain Peter had been caught by one of the Rangers, and the good steed
was now quickly delivered up to his master, who, flinging himself again
into his saddle, rushed into the throng of combatants. The few
dragoons, dispirited by the loss of their leader, and stricken with
panic at this strenuous onset,