hen outnumbered, in which good fortune had often, perhaps, quite as
much to do in securing the result as strength or courage. But in those
days a soldier's good luck was perhaps as much the subject of applause
as his muscular force or his bravery; and, in fact, it was as deservedly
so; for the strength of arm, and the coolness, or, rather, the ferocity
of courage, which make a good combatant in personal contests on a
battle-field, are qualities of brutes rather than of men. We feel a
species of respect for them in the lion or tiger, but they deserve only
execration when exercised in the wantonness of hatred and revenge by man
against his brother man.

One of the instances of William's extraordinary success was the
following. He was reconnoitering the enemy on one occasion, accompanied
only by four or five knights, who acted as his attendants and
body-guard. The party were at a distance from the camp of the enemy, and
supposed they were not observed. They were observed, however, and
immediately a party of twelve chosen horsemen was formed, and ordered
to ride out and surprise them. This detachment concealed themselves in
an ambuscade, at a place where the reconnoitering party must pass, and
when the proper moment arrived, they burst out suddenly upon them and
summoned them to surrender. Twelve against six seemed to render both
flight and resistance equally vain. William, however, advanced
immediately to the attack of the ambuscaders. He poised his long lance,
and, riding on with it at full speed, he unhorsed and killed the
foremost of them at a blow. Then, just drawing back his weapon to gather
strength for another blow, he killed the second of his enemies in the
same manner. His followers were so much animated at this successful
onset, that they advanced very resolutely to the combat. In the mean
time, the shouts carried the alarm to William's camp, and a strong party
set off to rescue William and his companions. The others then turned to
fly, while William followed them so eagerly and closely, that he and
they who were with him overtook and disabled seven of them, and made
them prisoners. The rest escaped. William and his party then turned and
began to proceed toward their own camp, conveying their prisoners in
their train.

They were met by King Henry himself at the head of a detachment of three
hundred men, who, not knowing how much necessity there might be for
efficient aid, were hastening to the scene of action. T