Hot and furious was now the fight. The enemy were fleeing in all directions, and our gallant troops were pressing them full hard. Loud blew the trumpets, the signal for the continuance of the slaughter. Berwick itself must now be carried whilst our blood was still at fever heat. I looked around to see how fared my friend, in his contest with the knight with whom I had seen him engaged. No sight could I see of either of them; but there was Harleston's horse straying riderless about the field. I recognized it by the peculiarity of its housing. A great sadness did then possess me, for I did greatly fear that my dear friend must have fallen at the hand of his opponent. "Indeed he must be dead," said I; "else how could his steed be riderless?" Then did I swear a great and savage oath of vengeance. "For his life an hundred Scots shall die, and still shall he be but poorly paid for." Thus did I think; for during the short time in which I had known Sir Frederick I had learned to love this noble knight, better far than I would a brother. Our forces came on, eager to avenge the loss of their comrades which had fallen that day, and these amounted to a considerable number. Now and then a small body of the foe were driven to bay, and seldom were they spared. I seemed to be changed into a demon, with the thirst for blood. Every one of the enemy that did fall into my hands, I slaughtered, and felt a savage delight in doing it. Ah! the fierce delirium of victory. When we reached the walls of Berwick a white flag was flying from the Citadel; so the battle was over, and we were stopped from pursuing the fleeing foe. Berwick was taken, and the war was ended; though we did not know this latter at that time. That evening we took possession of the fortress, and the flag of England replaced that of the Scots. After I had had my quarters allotted to me, and was just getting out of mine armour, who should walk into my room but my dear friend. He was still in his complete harness, and was covered with sand and blood, from head to foot. "The saints be praised that thou art still alive!" cried I, as I rushed and grasped him by the hand. "I was sure thou must be dead, and many a poor Scot has paid dearly for my thought. But where, in the name of Heaven, hast thou been rolling?" "Do but wait a moment and I will tell thee all," he replied. Then, when we were seated, he told me what had happened him. "You saw that knight, with whom I did engage when the three attacked us?" he asked. I nodded, and he went on:--"He is a Frenchman, and he hath a knack of breaking his opponent's sword with the hilt of his own. He broke mine, as I aimed a blow at his head; but, before he could strike, I closed with him, and, putting mine arms around his waist, I threw myself from my horse and dragged him with me. Of course he fell on top, which shook me up a little and, as the ground was soaked with blood, I naturally do not look so clean as I might."