Dick, once more left to his own counsels, began to look about him.  The arrow-shot had somewhat slackened.  On all sides the enemy were falling back; and the greater part of the market-place was now left empty, the snow here trampled into orange mud, there splashed with gore, scattered all over with dead men and horses, and bristling thick with feathered arrows.  
On his own side the loss had been cruel.  The jaws of the little street and the ruins of the barricade were heaped with the dead and dying; and out of the hundred men with whom he had begun the battle, there were not seventy left who could still stand to arms.
 
At the same time, the day was passing.  The first reinforcements might be looked for to arrive at any moment; and the Lancastrians, already shaken by the result of their desperate but unsuccessful onslaught, were in an ill temper to support a fresh invader.
 
There was a dial in the wall of one of the two flanking houses; and this, in the frosty winter sunshine, indicated ten of the forenoon.
 
Dick turned to the man who was at his elbow, a little insignificant archer, binding a cut in his arm.
 
“It was well fought,” he said, “and, by my sooth, they will not charge us twice.”
 
“Sir,” said the little archer, “ye have fought right well for York, and better for yourself.  Never hath man in so brief space prevailed so greatly on the duke’s affections.  That he should have entrusted such a post to one he knew not is a marvel.  But look to your head, Sir Richard!  If ye be vanquished—ay, if ye give way one foot’s breadth—axe or cord shall punish it; and I am set if ye do aught doubtful, I will tell you honestly, here to stab you from behind.”
 
Dick looked at the little man in amaze.
 
“You!” he cried.  “And from behind!”
 
“It is right so,” returned the archer; “and because I like not the affair I tell it you.  Ye must make the post good, Sir Richard, at your peril.  O, our Crookback is a bold blade and a good warrior; but, whether in cold blood or in hot, he will have all things done exact to his commandment.  If any fail or hinder, they shall die the death.”
 
“Now, by the saints!” cried Richard, “is this so?  And will men follow such a leader?”
 
“Nay, they follow him gleefully,” replied the other; “for if he be exact to punish, he is most open-handed to reward.  And if he spare not the blood and sweat of others, he is ever liberal of his own, still in the first front of battle, still the last to sleep.  He will go far, will Crookback Dick o’ Gloucester!”
 
The young knight, if he had before been brave and vigilant, was now all the more inclined to watchfulness and courage.  His sudden favour, he began to perceive, had brought perils in its train.  And he turned from the archer, and once more scanned anxiously the market-place.  It lay empty as before.
 
“I like not this quietude,” he said.  “Doubtless they prepare us some surprise.”
 
And, as if in answer to his remark, the archers began once more to advance against the barricade, and the arrows to fall thick.  But there was something hesitating in the attack.  They came not on roundly, but seemed rather to await a further signal.
 
Dick looked uneasily about him, spying for a hidden danger.  And sure enough, about half way up the little street, a door was suddenly opened from within, and the house continued, for some seconds, and both by door and window, to disgorge a torrent of Lancastrian archers.  These, as they leaped down, hurriedly stood to their ranks, bent their bows, and proceeded to pour upon Dick’s rear a flight of arrows.
 
At the same time, the assailants in the market-place redoubled their shot, and began to close in stoutly upon the bar............