The regiment was under the personal control of its brigadier, stout
old Sir Colin, who, with his staff, stood a little withdrawn, but
closely observing all that passed. He recognised McKay, and called out
abruptly--
"Halloa! where have you dropped from?"
"I heard the firing, sir, met the Turks retreating, and brought up my
party to reinforce and act as might be ordered."
"It was well done, man. But, enough; get yourselves up into line there
on the left, and take the word from the colonel of the 93rd."
"We have our work cut out for us, sir," said one of his staff to Sir
Colin.
"We have, but we'll do it. This gorge must be held to the death. You
understand that, Colonel Ainslie--to the death?"
"You can trust us, Sir Colin."
"I think so; but I'll say just one word to the men," and, while the
enemy's cavalry were still some distance off, the general rode slowly
down the line, speaking his last solemn injunction--
"Remember, men, there is no retreat from here. You must die where you
stand."
One and the same answer rose readily to every lip--
"Ay! ay! Sir Colin; we'll do that!" shouted the gallant Scots.[1]
[Footnote 1: Historical. _cf._ Kinglake's "Crimea," v. 80.]
Their veteran leader's head was clear; his temper cool and
self-possessed. He held these brave hearts in hand like the rider of a
high-couraged horse, and knew well when to restrain, when to let go.
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