At this moment an aide-de-camp ventured to ride forward to his
general's side, and said--
"Do you hear that firing, my lord? I think the French on the right are
warmly engaged."
"Are they?" replied Lord Raglan, doubtfully; "I can't catch any return
fire."
"In any case," observed St. Arnaud, quickly, "it is time to lend him a
hand. The Prince Napoleon and Canrobert shall now advance."
"The sooner the better," said Lord Raglan, simply; "I must wait till
their attack is developed before I can move."
"You shall not wait long, my friend."
The next instant the French mounted messengers were scouring the
plain. St. Arnaud paused a moment, then, gathering up his reins, he
put spurs to his horse and galloped away, saluted as he went by a loud
and hearty cheer.
The sound must have gladdened the heart of the gallant Frenchman, for
he promptly reined in his horse, and, rising in his stirrups,
responded with a loud "Hurrah for Old England!" given in ringing
tones, and in excellent English. Then, still followed by cheers, he
went on his way.
It is but poor fun waiting while others begin a great game--poor fun
and dangerous too, as the English line presently realised, while they
looked impatiently for the order to advance. The Russian gunners had
got their range, and were already plying them with shot and shell.
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