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and had left the ground clear for the sing'e combat. As he made a lounge at my breast, I turned his sword aside, by one of those sweeping blows which are rather the dictate of a kind of instinct of self-defence, than a movement of art. As our strokes redoubled, my antagonist's dark features put on a look of deep and settled ferocity. No man who has not encountered the steel of bis enemy, in the field of battle, can conceive the looks and the manner of the warrior, in the moments of intense feelings. May I never witness them again!—We fought in silence. My stroke fell on his right shoulder; it cut the belt of his carabine which fell to the ground. His blow cut me to the rib, glanced along the bone, and rid me also of the weight of my carabine. He had now advanced too near me, to be struck, by the sword. I grasped him by the collar. I pushed him backwards; and, with an entangled blow of my Ferrara, I struck him across his throat. It cut only the strap of his head-piece and it fell off. With a sudden spring he seized me by the sword belt. Our horses reared, and we both came to the ground. We rolled on the heath in deadly conflict. It was in this situation of matters, that my brave fellows had returned from the rout of the flanking party, to look after their commander. One of them was actually rushing on my antagonist when I called on him to re-
