, and renew the battle on firm ground and fiercer
terms. But the close fire of the insurgents, joined to the natural difficulties
of the pass foiled his attempts in every point.
    »We must retreat,« he said to Evandale, »unless Bothwell can effect a
diversion in our favour. In the meantime, draw the men out of fire, and leave
skirmishers behind these patches of alderbushes to keep the enemy in check.«
    These directions being accomplished, the appearance of Bothwell with his
party was earnestly expected. But Bothwell had his own disadvantages to struggle
with. His detour to the right had not escaped the penetrating observation of
Burley, who made a corresponding movement with the left wing of the mounted
insurgents, so that when Bothwell, after riding a considerable way up the
valley, found a place at which the bog could be passed, though with some
difficulty, he perceived he was still in front of a superior enemy. His daring
character was in no degree checked by this unexpected opposition.
    »Follow me, my lads!« he called to his men; »never let it be said that we
turned our backs before these canting roundheads!«
    With that, as if inspired by the spirit of his ancestors, he shouted,
»Bothwell! Bothwell!« and throwing himself into the morass, he struggled through
it at the head of his party, and attacked that of Burley with such fury that he
drove them back above a pistol shot, killing three men with his own hand.
Burley, perceiving the consequences of a defeat on this point, and that his men,
though more numerous, were unequal to the regulars in using their arms and
managing their horses, threw himself across Bothwell's way, and attacked him
hand to hand. Each of the combatants was considered as the champion of his
respective party, and a result ensued more usual in romance than in real story.
Their followers, on either side, instantly paused, and looked on as if the fate
of the day were to be decided by the event of the combat between these two
redoubted swordsmen. The combatants themselves seemed of the same opinion; for,
after two or three eager cuts and pushes had been exchanged, they paused, as if
by joint consent, to recover the breath which preceding exertions had exhausted,
and to prepare for a duel in which each seemed conscious he had met his match.
    »You are the murdering villain, Burley,« said Bothwell, griping his sword
firmly, and setting his teeth close - »you escaped me once, but« (he swore an
oath too
