as he could see, over their heads, from a few of the kings cavalry,
who came at a sharp trot down the main street. The pikemen had got
into disorder pursuing some of the enemy who had divided and gone to
the right and left up the two diverging streets, and when the
cavalry appeared at the top of the main street, both parts, seeing
themselves in danger of being surrounded, had retreated. They were
now putting the Kennet with its narrow bridge between them and the
long-feathered cavaliers, in the hope of gaining time and fit ground
for forming and presenting a bristled front. In the midst of this
confused mass of friends Richard found himself, the maddened
Beelzebub every moment lashing out behind him when not rearing or
biting.

Before him the bridge rose steep to its crown, contracting as it
rose. At its foot, where it widened to the street, stood a single
horseman, shouting impatiently to the last of the pikemen, and
spurring his horse while holding him. As the last man cleared the
bridge, he gave him rein, and with a bound and a scramble reached
the apex, and stood--within half a neck of the foremost of the
cavalier troop. A fierce combat instantly began between them. The
bridge was wide enough for two to have fought side by side, but the
roundhead contrived so to work his antagonist, who was a younger but
less capable and less powerful man, that no comrade could get up
beside him for the to-and-fro shifting of his horse.

Meantime Richard had been making his slow way through the swarm of
hurrying pikemen, doing what he could to keep them off Beelzebub.
The moment he was clear, he made a great bolt for the bridge, and
the same moment perceived who the brave man was.