ingled and blent together, the opposing shouts, "A
Montagu! a Montagu! Strike for D'Eyncourt and King Edward!"--"A Say! A
Say!"

"Ha!" said Edward, thoughtfully, "bold Gloucester fails, Montagu is
bearing on to Warwick's aid, Say and D'Eyncourt stop his path. Our doom
looks dark! Ride, Hastings,--ride; retrieve thy laurels, and bring up
the reserve under Clarence. But hark ye, leave not his side,--he may
desert again! Ho! ho! Again, 'Gloucester to the rescue!' Ah, how lustily
sounds the cry of 'Warwick!' By the flaming sword of Saint Michael, we
will slacken that haughty shout, or be evermore dumb ourself, ere the
day be an hour nearer to the eternal judgment!"

Deliberately Edward rebraced his helm, and settled himself in his
saddle, and with his knights riding close each to each, that they might
not lose themselves in the darkness, regained his infantry, and led
them on to the quarter where the war now raged fiercest, round the black
steed of Warwick and the blood-red manteline of the fiery Richard.

CHAPTER VI. THE BATTLE.

It was now scarcely eight in the morning, though the battle had endured
three hours; and, as yet, victory so inclined to the earl that nought
but some dire mischance could turn the scale. Montagu had cut his way to
Warwick; Somerset had re-established his array. The fresh vigour
brought by the earl's reserve had well-nigh completed his advantage
over Gloucester's wing. The new infantry under Hilyard, the unexhausted
riders under Sir John Coniers and his knightly compeers, were dealing
fearful havoc, as they cleared the plain; and Gloucester, fighting inch
by inch, no longer outnumbering but outnumbered, was driven nearer and
nearer towards the town, when suddenly a pale, sickly, and ghostlike ray
of sunshine, rather resembling the watery gleam of a waning moon than
the radiance of the Lord of Light, broke through the mists, and showed
to the earl's eager troops the banner and badges of a new array hurrying
to the spot. "Behold," cried the young Lord Fitzhugh, "the standard and
the badge of the Usurper,--a silver sun! Edward himself is delivered
into our hands! Upon them, bill and pike, lance and brand, shaft and
bolt! Upon them, and crown the day!"

The same fatal error was shared by Hilyard, as he caught sight of the
advancing troop, with their silvery cognizance. He gave the word, and
every arrow left its string. At the same moment, as both horse and foot
assailed the fancied foe, the