called down his whole command out of the houses, and facing them
both ways, and encouraging their valour both by word and gesture,
returned as best he could the double shower of shafts that fell about his
post.

Meanwhile house after house was opened in the street, and the
Lancastrians continued to pour out of the doors and leap down from the
windows, shouting victory, until the number of enemies upon Dick's rear
was almost equal to the number in his face. It was plain that he could
hold the post no longer; what was worse, even if he could have held it,
it had now become useless; and the whole Yorkist army lay in a posture of
helplessness upon the brink of a complete disaster.

The men behind him formed the vital flaw in the general defence; and it
was upon these that Dick turned, charging at the head of his men. So
vigorous was the attack, that the Lancastrian archers gave ground and
staggered, and, at last, breaking their ranks, began to crowd back into
the houses from which they had so recently and so vaingloriously sallied.

Meanwhile the men from the market-place had swarmed across the undefended
barricade, and fell on hotly upon the other side; and Dick must once
again face about, and proceed to drive them back. Once again the spirit
of his men prevailed; they cleared the street in a triumphant style, but
even as they did so the others issued again out of the houses, and took
them, a third time, upon the rear.

The Yorkists began to be scattered; several times Dick found himself
alone among his foes and plying his bright sword for life; several times
he was conscious of a hurt. And meanwhile the fight swayed to and fro in
the street without determinate result.

Suddenly Dick was aware of a great trumpeting about the outskirts of the
town. The war-cry of York began to be rolled up to heaven, as by many
and triumphant voices. And at the same time the men in front of him
began to give ground rapidly, streaming out of the street and back upon
the market-place. Some one gave the word to fly. Trumpets were blown
distractedly, some for a rally, some to charge. It was plain that a
great blow had been struck, and the Lancastrians were thrown, at least
for the moment, into full disorder, and some degree of panic.

And then, like a theatre trick, there followed the last act of Shoreby
Battle. The men in front of Richard turned tail, like a dog that has
been whistled home, and fled like the wind. At the same