At this moment the Light Division had effected a lodgment in the great
redoubt; but, even while they gazed, the Russian reserves were forcing
back the too-presumptuous few. Behind, a portion of the brigade of
Guards was advancing to reinforce the wavering line and renew the
attack. Beyond, further on the left, in an echelon, advanced three
lines, one behind the other, the Highlanders and their stout leader,
Sir Colin Campbell.
It was only a passing glimpse, however, that our friends obtained.
Their leader knew that the fortunes of the day were still in doubt,
and that every man must throw his weight into the scale if victory was
to be assured.
The line was again ordered to advance. The slope was steeper now; they
were scaling, really, the heights themselves. Just above them yawned
the mouths of the heavy guns that had been dealing such havoc while
they were painfully threading the intricacies of the low ground.
"We must drive them out of that!" shouted old Blythe. "That battery
has been playing the mischief with us all along. Now, lads, shoulder
to shoulder; reserve your fire till we are at close quarters, then
give them the cold steel!"
The Royal Picts set up a ringing cheer in cordial response to their
chieftain's call. The cheer passed quickly along the line, and all
again pressed forward in hot haste, with set teeth, and bayonets at
the charge.
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