e Russians.

"Impossible," he said. "We are destined to die upon this spot."

Then he also dismounted and seized a rifle. From a thousand British
throats a loud "Hurrah!" broke forth, for the Russians had reached the
square, and a hand-to-hand combat took place.

The horror of this terrible struggle at close quarters, the English
fighting with the struggle of despair against a foe outnumbering them
many times, impressed itself indelibly upon the memory of the young
German. He, too, had drawn his sword, but in spite of his personal
relations, his political sympathies were not on the English side.

Suddenly he heard, close to him, a hoarse cry of rage, and, on turning
round, perceived to his boundless surprise the face of Captain Irwin,
terribly distorted by hatred and fury. He had supposed him to be with
the depot in Chanidigot, but Irwin must have found an opportunity
of getting away from that command. Indeed, under the existing
circumstances, it must have seemed equivalent to a severe censure, and
Irwin had attached himself to the troops taking the field. He was now
fighting in this death-struggle, rifle in hand, like a private soldier.
The red blood staining the point of his bayonet bore eloquent testimony
to his bravery. But in this supreme moment his country's enemies were
forgotten in the sight of the mortal foe, the object of his personal
hate, by whose courageous action the dastardly plot against Edith had
been frustrated. Here were place and opportunity offered for satisfying
the thirst for revenge, which consumed him. What mattered the death of a
single unit in the midst of this great holocaust?

Before Heideck could divine the intention of the wretched man he was
attacked by his bayonet. It was solely the rearing of a frightened horse
that saved the Captain's life; the thrust of the bayonet grazed the
animal's neck. At the same moment the terrible sword-cut of a Russian
fell upon Irwin's unprotected neck (for he had lost his helmet), and
with such force that, with a hollow cry, he fell on his face.

Suddenly the curiously altered, now hoarse voice of the Colonel struck
Heideck's ear: "What are you still doing here? Ride, for Heaven's sake!
Ride quickly! If you should see them again, take my last loving messages
to my poor wife and children! Stay by them!"

The blood from a deep wound on his forehead was pouring over his face,
and Heideck saw that only by the greatest exertion of will could he keep
himse