Once more the line pressed forward.
The short space between them and the earthwork was quickly traversed.
Before the artillery could deal out a second salvo, the Royal Picts
were over the parapet and in the thick of the Russians, bayoneting
them as they stood at their guns.
The battery was won.
"Well done, sergeant-major--right well done! I saw it all. It shan't
be forgotten if we two come out of this alive!"
The speaker was Colonel Blythe, who, happily, although dismounted by
the shot that wounded his horse, had so far escaped unhurt.
"But this is no time for compliments; we must look to ourselves. The
enemy is still in great strength. They are bringing up the reserves."
Above the battery a second line of columns loomed large and menacing.
Was this gallant handful of Englishmen, which had so courageously
gained a footing in the enemy's works, to bear the brunt of a fresh
conflict with a new and perfectly fresh foe? The situation was
critical. To advance would be madness; retreat was not to be thought
of; yet it might cost them their lives to maintain the ground they
held.
While they paused in anxious debate, there came sounds of firing from
their right, aimed evidently at the Russians in front of them, for the
shot and shell ploughed through the ranks of the foe.
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