broad daylight, will hang back
during the night. Fear and Darkness have always been firm allies; and
are inseparably playing into each other's hands. Darkness conceals
Fear, and therefore Fear loves Darkness, because it saves the coward
from shame; and when the fear of shame is the only stimulus to fight,
daylight is essentially necessary.

I crept cautiously along, feeling for the dead bodies. The first I
laid my hand on, made my blood curdle. It was the lacerated thigh of a
grenadier, whose flesh had been torn off by a hand-grenade. "Friend,"
said I, "if I may judge from the nature of your wound, your great coat
is not worth having." The next subject I handled, had been better
killed. A musket-ball through his head had settled all his tradesmen's
bills; and I hesitated not in becoming residuary legatee, as I was
sure the assets would more than discharge the undertaker's bill; but
the body was cold and stiff, and did not readily yield its garment.

I, however, succeeded in obtaining my object; in which I arrayed
myself, and went on in search of the colonel's sword; but here I had
been anticipated by a Frenchman. The colonel, indeed, lay there, stiff
enough, but his sword was gone. I was preparing to return, when I
encountered, not a dead, but a living enemy.

"_Qui vive_?" said a low voice.

"_Anglois, bete_!" answered I, in a low tone: and added, "_mais les
corsairs ne se battent pas_"

"_Cest vrai_" said he; and growling, "_bon soir_" he was soon out of
sight. I scrambled back to the castle, gave the countersign to the
sentinel, and showed my new great coat with a vast deal of glee and
satisfaction; some of my comrades went on the same sort of expedition,
and were rewarded with more or less success.

In a few days the dead bodies on the breach were nearly denuded by
nightly visitors; but that of the colonel lay respected and untouched.
The heat of the day had blackened it, and it was now deprived of all
its manly beauty, and nothing remained but a loathsome corpse.
The rules of war, as well as of humanity, demanded the honourable
interment of the remains of this hero; and our captain, who was the
very flower of chivalry, desired me to stick a white handkerchief on
a pike, as a flag of truce, and bury the bodies, if the enemy would
permit us I went out accordingly, with a spade and a pick-axe; but the
_tirailleurs_ on the hill began with their rifles, and wounded one of
my men. I looked at the captain, as much