d!'

'In the name of the Lord!' cried the crowd, with a sort of hissing gasp,
like one who is about to plunge into an icy bath. 'In the name of the
Lord!' From either side they came on, gathering speed and volume, until
at last with a wild cry they surged right down upon our sword-points.

I can say nothing of what took place to right or left of me during the
ruffle, for indeed there were so many pressing upon us, and the fight
was so hot, that it was all that each of us could do to hold our own.
The very number of our assailants was in our favour, by hampering their
sword-arms. One burly miner cut fiercely at me with his scythe, but
missing me he swung half round with the force of the blow, and I passed
my sword through his body before he could recover himself. It was the
first time that I had ever slain a man in anger, my dear children, and
I shall never forget his white startled face as he looked over his
shoulder at me ere he fell. Another closed in with me before I could get
my weapon disengaged, but I struck him out with my left hand, and then
brought the flat of my sword upon his head, laying him senseless
upon the pavement. God knows, I did not wish to take the lives of the
misguided and ignorant zealots, but our own were at stake. A marshman,
looking more like a shaggy wild beast than a human being, darted under
my weapon and caught me round the knees, while another brought a flail
down upon my head-piece, from which it glanced on to my shoulder. A
third thrust at me with a pike, and pricked me on the thigh, but I shore
his weapon in two with one blow, and split his head with the next. The
man with the flail gave back at sight of this, and a kick freed me from
the unarmed ape-like creature at my feet, so that I found myself clear
of my assailants, and none the worse for my encounter, save for a touch
on the leg and some stiffness of the neck and shoulder.

Looking round I found that my comrades had also beaten off those who
were opposed to them. Saxon was holding his bloody rapier in his left
hand, while the blood was trickling from a slight wound upon his right.
Two miners lay across each other in front of him, but at the feet of
Sir Gervas Jerome no fewer than four bodies were piled together. He had
plucked out his snuff-box as I glanced at him, and was offering it with
a bow and a flourish to Lord Grey, as unconcernedly as though he were
back once more in his London coffee-house. Buyse leaned upon his long