rry it. The major of the regiment (the
colonel had been killed that morning at the ford) cried out,--

"'Grenadiers, you hear the order,--Forward!' But the same instant a
terrible discharge of grape tore through the ranks, killing three and
wounding eight others. 'Forward, men! forward!' shouted the major. But
no one stirred."

"_Tete d'enfer_," growled out Pioche, "where was the tambour?"

"You shall hear," said Minette, and resumed.

"'Do you hear me?' cried the major, 'or am I to be disgraced forever?
Advance--quick time--march!'

"'But, Major,' said a sergeant, aloud, 'they are not roasted apples
those fellows yonder are pelting.'

"'Silence!' called out the major; 'not a word! Tambour, beat the
charge!'

"Suddenly a man sprang up to his knees from the ground where he had been
lying, and began to beat the drum with all his might. Poor fellow! his
leg was smashed with a shot, but he obeyed his orders in the midst of
all his suffering.

"'Forward, men! forward!' cried the major, waving his cap above his
head. 'Fix bayonets--charge!' And on they dashed after him.

"'Halloo, comrades!' shouted the tambour; 'don't leave me behind you.'
And in an instant two grenadiers stooped down and hoisted him on their
shoulders, and then rushed forward through the smoke and flame. Crashing
and smashing went the shot through the leading files; but on they went,
leaping over the dead and dying."

"With the tambour still?" asked Pioche.

"To be sure," said Minette; "there he was. But listen:--

"Just as they reached the breach a shot above their heads came whizzing
past, and a terrible bang rang out as it went.

"'He is killed,' said one of the grenadiers, preparing to lower the
body; 'I heard his cry.'

[Illustration: BrowneDrummerBoy121]

"'Not yet, Comrade,' cried the tambour; 'it is the drum-head they have
carried away, that's all;' and he beat away on the wooden sides harder
than ever. And thus they bore him over the glacis, and up the rampart,
and never stopped till they placed him, sitting, on one of the guns on
the wall."

"Hurrah! well done!" cried Pioche; while every throat around him
re-echoed the cry, "Hurrah!"

"What was his name, Mademoiselle?" cried several voices. "Tell us the
name of the tambour!"

"_Ma foi, Messieurs!_they have not given it."

"Not given his name," growled they out. "_Ventrebleu!_ that is too bad!"

"An he had been an officer of the Guard they would have told us his
whole bir