ore dawn the very next
morning Marlborough was marching, with twelve thousand men, largely
cavalry, towards the Queich valley, across a bit of country that for
badness could hardly be matched even in the wilds of Connemara. On man
and horse tramped, till the ancient city of Treves was reached. The
Duke prepared for a siege, but he was saved the trouble. The garrison
was far too weak to hold the place, and the place fell into his hands
almost without a blow. George Fairburn grumbled at his luck, but was
cheered by Matthew's laughing reply, "Don't seek to rush things too
quickly, my dear lad; your time is coming."

It was. After ordering the siege of Traerbach, Marlborough flew back
with a portion of his men to Landau, in his own breathless fashion,
and before many hours were over Fairburn was as keenly interested in
the siege as if he had never scampered all the way to Treves and back
again. A week or two passed by, and still the place held out, though
it was plain the end was near.

One day a sudden assault was planned on a weak spot in the defences, a
spot where some earlier damages had been ineffectively repaired.
George, with a troop of cavalry on foot, under the orders of
Lieutenant Blackett, suddenly started off at the double, spurred by
their officer's "Come along, lads! through or over!" With a roar of
delight the men, mostly young fellows, dashed toward the spot,
regardless of the whistling bullets that flew around. In a breach of
the defences, a place not more than four or five feet wide, stood a
huge Frenchman, whirling his sword over his head. The attackers pulled
up for a moment, all except George, who kept right on, till he was
close upon the big fellow with the sword. The Frenchman lunged out
fiercely at the lad, but the Englishman skipped out of the way like a
cat. Then before the man could use his weapon again George had charged
him head first, like a bull, his body bent double. With a shock his
head came into contact with the fellow's knees, and in a moment the
Frenchman had tumbled helplessly on his face. The rest of Blackett's
little band dashed over the prostrate enemy and into the fortress. The
stronghold was taken.

"Send Cornet Fairburn to me, Mr. Blackett," said the colonel that same
evening, and much wondering the lieutenant obeyed.

"Cornet Fairburn sounds well," he remarked to George. "Wonder if the
old colonel has made a mistake about it."

There was no mistake at all. When George Fairb