But that soon happened which I had feared. For the Ruthvens, enclosing our wings, had all but surrounded us, since the captain had put the weaker there and left all the more valiant for the centre. Almost before I knew I saw one and another great gipsy rush around and make towards the girls who had not joined the battle. In that moment I saw the bravest actions which it has ever been my lot to see. For these slim, dark-haired maids drew knives and stood before their assailants, as stout-hearted as any soldiers of the King’s guard. The children raised a great cry and huddled close to one another. One evil-looking fellow flung a knife and pierced a girl’s arm.... It was too much for me. All my good resolutions went to the wind, and I forgot my pride in my anger. With a choking cry I drew my sword and rushed for him. After that I know not well what happened. I was borne back by numbers, then I forced my way forward, then back I fell again. At first I fought calmly, and more from a perverted feeling of duty than any lust of battle. But soon a tinker knife scratched my cheek, and a tinker bludgeon rattled sorely against my head. Then I grew very hot and angry. I saw all around me a crowd of fierce faces and gleaming knives, and I remember naught save that I hurled myself onward, sword in hand, hewing and slashing like a devil incarnate. I had never drawn blade in overmastering passion before, and could scarce have thought myself capable of such madness as then possessed me. The wild moss-trooping blood, which I had heired from generations of robber lords, stood me in good stead. A reckless joy of fight took me. I must have seemed more frantic than the gipsies themselves.