“By this time I had satisfied my thirst, and Gerard stole softly away to reconnoitre, as he said. It was now light, and from my corner I could look over all the surrounding country. The battle-field was deserted save for a few scattered bands of horsemen moving hither and thither. Three of them at length drew near my hiding-place, whom I quickly recognized as Swiss nobles, traitors to their country, and rejoicing in the sufferings of their fellow-countrymen. One, named Werner von Staufen, laughed scornfully as he surveyed the ruins piled with corpses, when suddenly one of my mortally wounded comrades started up, seized a stone from the shattered wall, and with a last effort flung it full at the knight, hurling him to the ground, where he expired together with his assailant. “The others now began to pry about among the debris to see if there might be other Switzers still alive. Burghard Mönch, of Landskrön, stepped forward and, pointing to the crimson blood-stains, cried to his companion, ‘Look at the roses that have blossomed in the night!’ At this, Captain Arnold Schick of Uri lifted himself painfully, a heavy stone in his right hand. ‘Here—take this rose!’ he cried, and dashed it at the head of the knight, who fell headlong, his armor clanging sharply against the stones. The third quickly abandoned the pleasures of a search for still breathing foes, and, mounting his horse, galloped away so swiftly that the sparks flew. “Scarcely had he disappeared when Gerard returned. ‘We must be quick, young sir,’ he said, ‘for in another half-hour the whole army will be back again to avenge the death of yonder knights. I have hidden my pack and will come for it again in a few days. Quickly, now, and hold tight to my neck, for I must needs run if we are to reach the Birs in safety.’