The French turned right and
left. To form was impossible, ere the human whirlwind would be upon them.
Another half-minute and with a shout of "A bear! a bear. The Wake! the
Wake!" they were struck, ridden through, hurled over, and trampled into
the mud.
"I yield. Grace! I yield!" cried Thorold, struggling from under his horse;
but there was no one to whom to yield. The knights' backs were fifty yards
off, their right arms high in the air, striking and stabbing.
The battle was "_a l'outrance_." There was no quarter given that day.
"And he that came live out thereof
Was he that ran away."
The Abbot tried to make for the wood, but ere he could gain it, the
knights had turned, and one rode straight at him, throwing away a broken
lance, and drawing his sword.
Abbot Thorold may not have been the coward which Peter of Blois would have
him, over and above being the bully which all men would have him; but if
so, even a worm will turn; and so did the Abbot: he drew sword from thigh,
got well under his shield, his left foot forward, and struck one blow for
his life, and at the right place,--his foe's bare knee.
But he had to do with a warier man than himself. There was a quick jerk of
the rein; the horse swerved round, right upon him, and knocked him head
over heels; while his blow went into empty air.
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