manner possible, ahorse or afoot.

But more and more of the awakened rebels--we could make out only their
dark figures--sprang forward from their huts (mere roofs, 'twere
better to call these) to the breastwork, each waiting to take careful
aim at our mixed-up mass of men and horses before he fired into it. As
Tom and I were extricating ourselves from the mass by scrambling over
a groaning man or two, and a shrieking, kicking horse that lay on its
side, De Lancey rode back to enforce his commands upon the men at our
rear, some of whom were firing over our heads. His turning was
mistaken for a movement of retreat, not only by our men, of whom the
unhurt promptly made to hasten down the hill, but also by the enemy, a
few of whom now leaped from behind their defence to pursue.

Tom and I, not yet sensible of the action of our comrades, were
striding forward to mount the rampart, when this sally of rebels
occurred. Though it appalled us at the time, coming so unexpectedly,
it was the saving of us; for it stopped the fire of the rebels
remaining behind the barrier, lest they should hit their comrades. A
ringing voice, more potent than a bugle, now called upon these latter
to come back, in a tone showing their movement to have been without
orders. They speedily obeyed; all save one, a tall, broad
fellow--nothing but a great black figure in the night, to our
sight--who had rushed with a clubbed musket straight upon Tom and me.
A vague sense of it circling through the air, rather than distinct
sight of it, told me that his musket-butt was aimed at Tom's head.
Instinctively I flung up my sword to ward off the blow; and though of
course I could not stop its descent, I so disturbed its direction that
it struck only Tom's shoulder; none the less sending him to the ground
with a groan. With a curse, I swung my sword--a cut-and-thrust
blade-of-all-work, so to speak--with some wild idea of slicing off a
part of the rebel's head; but my weapon was hacked where it met him,
and so it merely made him reel and drop his musket. The darkness
falling the blacker after the glare of the firing, must have cloaked
these doings from the other rebels. Tom rose, and the two of us fell
upon our enemy at once, I hissing out the words, "Call for quarter,
you dog!"

"Very well," he said faintly, quite docile from having had his senses
knocked out of him by my blow, and not knowing at all what was going
on.

"Come then," said I, and grasped him by