And now the final quarter was searching, searching the weak spots in their line.

The final quarter it is that finds a man's history and habits; the clean of blood and of life defy its pitiless probe, but the rotten fibre yields and snaps.

That momentary weakness of Cameron's like a subtle poison runs through the Scottish line; and like fluid lightning through the Welsh.

It is the touch upon the trembling balance.

With cries exultant with triumph, the Welsh forwards fling themselves upon the steady Scots now fighting for life rather than for victory.