m 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 moment there
came through the market-place a storm of horsemen, fleeing and pursuing,
the Lancastrians turning back to strike with the sword, the Yorkists
riding them down at the point of the lance.

Conspicuous in the mellay, Dick beheld the Crookback. He was already
giving a foretaste of that furious valour and skill to cut his way
across the ranks of war, which, years afterwards, upon the field of
Bosworth, and when he was stained with crimes, almost sufficed to change
the fortunes of the day and the destiny of the English throne. Evading,
striking, riding down, he so forced and so manoeuvred his strong
horse, so aptly defended himself, and so liberally scattered death to
his opponents, that he was now far ahead of the foremost of his knights,
hewing his way, with the truncheon of a bloody sword, to where Lord
Risingham was rallying the bravest. A moment more and they had met; the
tall, splendid, and famous warrior against the deformed and sickly boy.

Yet Shelton had never a doubt of the result; and when the fight next
opened for a moment, the figure of the e