"He is dead!" "Nay, he stirs." "Kill him!" "Spare him; he fought well!" Peter leaned upon his sword, looking at the fallen foe.

Then he glanced upwards at their Majesties, but these sat silent, making no sign, only he saw Margaret try to rise from her seat and speak, to be pulled back to it again by the hands of women.

A deep hush fell upon the watching thousands who waited for the end.

Peter looked at Morella.

Alas! he still lived, his sword and the stout helmet had broken the weight of that stroke, mighty though it had been.