om my meditations.
The corporal was sitting up rubbing his head with a look of stupid
astonishment upon his face, as though he were not very sure either of
where he was or how he came there. The officer, too, had opened his
eyes and shown other signs of returning consciousness. His wounds were
clearly of no very serious nature. There was no danger of their pursuing
me even should they wish to do so, for their horses had trotted off to
join the numerous other riderless steeds who were wandering all over the
moorlands. I mounted, therefore, and rode slowly away, saving my good
charger as much as possible, for the morning's work had already told
somewhat heavily upon him.

There were many scattered bodies of horse riding hither and thither over
the marshes, but I was able to avoid them, and trotted onwards, keeping
to the waste country until I found myself eight or ten miles from the
battlefield. The few cottages and houses which I passed wore deserted,
and many of them bore signs of having been plundered. Not a peasant was
to be seen. The evil fame of Kirke's lambs had chased away all those who
had not actually taken arms. At last, after riding for three hours, I
bethought me that I was far enough from the main line of pursuit to
be free from danger, so I chose out a sheltered spot where a clump of
bushes overhung a little brook. There, seated upon a bank of velvet
moss, I rested my weary limbs, and tried to wash the stains of battle
from my person.

It was only now when I could look quietly at my own attire that it was
brought home to me how terrible the encounter must have been in which
I had been engaged, and how wonderful it was that I had come off so
scatheless. Of the blows which I had struck in the fight I had faint
remembrance, yet they must have been many and terrible, for my sword
edge was as jagged and turned as though I had hacked for an hour at an
iron bar. From head to foot I was splashed and crimsoned with blood,
partly my own, but mostly that of others. My headpiece was dinted with
blows. A petronel bullet had glanced off my front plate, striking it
at an angle, and had left a broad groove across it. Two or three other
cracks and stars showed where the good sheet of proof steel had saved
me. My left arm was stiff and well-nigh powerless from the corporal's
stab, but on stripping off my doublet and examining the place, I found
that though there had been much bleeding the wound was on the outer side
of the