mmander with a body of men hard after him, to find
the energetic and plucky colonel fallen badly wounded, and the
regiment in difficulties. With a swoop, the reinforcements fell upon
the Irishmen, and, almost for the first time, Matthew found himself
engaged in a hand-to-hand encounter. He did not know how long the
conflict lasted, but presently he found the enemy in full flight, his
comrades cheering lustily around him. Marlborough's promptitude had
saved the situation.

"You fought like a very fiend, Blackett," remarked the major,
laughingly, a little later on, when for the moment operations had
ceased, to which Matthew replied simply, "Did I, sir? I don't remember
anything about it," whereat the major laughed again.

It was five in the afternoon, and there was a lull on the field. Up to
the present neither side could be said to have gained any real
advantage over the other. All the allied cavalry had crossed the
stream, and the men wondered what would come next.

They were not left long in doubt. The order came to mass the horse in
preparation for a grand charge. For a time the field was a scene of
rapid and puzzling movement, but order was quickly evolved out of the
seeming confusion.

Then the trumpet rang out, and there bore down upon Tallard a
magnificent body of eight thousand cavalry. Bore _down_, we have
written; the course was slightly upwards, as a matter of fact, from
the stream. There was one check, and the Allies were stopped for a
moment. Then like a whirlwind the horse dashed forward, at a
tremendous speed.

It was too much. The French fired one volley, then turned and fled. On
the Englishmen galloped, and in a few moments the enemy's line was cut
in two. In two different directions the French cavalry ran, and
Marlborough followed after that section which was making for Blenheim.
It was a wild stampede, and Matthew Blackett, as he dashed after the
retreating enemy, always considered it the most exciting episode in
his life.

It did not last long. By great good fortune the lieutenant found
himself one of those surrounding Marshal Tallard. Amidst a wild burst
of applause the gallant Frenchman surrendered, and before he knew well
what he was doing, Blackett was leading Tallard's horse by the bridle.
The lad saw the Duke glance towards him as he dismounted to receive
the gallant leader and invite him into his carriage.

The victory was practically won. There remained only the seventeen
battalions