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