nd towards the major in one, now mute,
appeal. It was in vain.

"Put your rifles within a foot of their heads," the lieutenant
said. "Fire!"

When the smoke cleared away, the soldiers were standing alone; and
the peasants and franc tireurs lay, in a confused mass, on the
ground.

The lieutenant walked up to the major with a steady step, but with
a face as pale as ashes.

"I have done my duty, Major Kolbach; your orders are obeyed."

Then, without another word, he drew out his revolver, put it rapidly
to his temple, and blew out his brains [an historical fact].

Brutal as Major Kolbach was, he started back in horror as the young
lieutenant fell dead at his feet; while a cry of surprise and
consternation broke from the men. The major did not say a word, but
turned away and paced up and down, with disturbed steps; while the
other lieutenant bent over the body of his comrade and, seeing that
he was dead, in a hushed voice ordered the men who had run up to
dig a grave, under the trees, and bring him there.

When this was done he ordered the men to fall in--placing the
Barclays, and Tim in their midst--and then went up to the major and
saluted, saying coldly that the men were ready to march. The major
nodded, signed to the orderly who was holding his horse to
approach, vaulted into the saddle, and rode along the road back
toward the main body of the army. The lieutenant gave the word, and
the column marched off; leaving behind it the still smoking houses,
and the still warm bodies of some sixty men.

There was a general gloom over the faces of the men; and no one
could suppose, from their air, that they were returning from a
successful expedition, in which they had annihilated a body of
enemy fifty strong, with the loss of only five or six of their own
men. Discipline was, however, too strict for a word of blame, or
even of comment to be spoken; and not a sound was heard but the
heavy, measured tramp as the troops marched back through the
forests. The major rode on, moodily, some forty or fifty yards
ahead of the main body.

They had not gone half a mile before there was a shot fired in the
wood, close to the road. The major gave a start, and nearly fell
from his horse; then recovered himself, and turned to ride back to
the column, when there was another shot, and he fell off his horse,
heavily, to the ground.

The column had instinctively halted, and the lieutenant gave the
word, "Load."

A shout of triumph