e after bugle drowned his
voice, rending the darkness. From the rocks to the eastward voices
answered them, challenging wildly.

"Death to the invader!"

With a _whoo-sh_ a rocket leapt into the air and burst, flooding the
beach with light, showing up every furze bush, every stone wall,
every sheep-track, on the surrounding cliffs. As if they had caught
fire from it, a score of torches broke into flame on the eastward
rocks, and in the sudden blaze, under the detonating fire of
musketry, the men of Troy could be seen tumbling out of their boats
and splashing ankle-deep to the shore.

It was a splendid, a gallant sight. Each man, as he reached _terra
firma_, dropped on one knee, fired deliberately, reloaded, and
advanced a dozen paces. Still from the boats behind fresh
reinforcements splashed ashore and crowded into the firing-line:
while from the eastward rock the vanguard of the Diehards kept up its
deadly flanking fire, heedless of the torches that exposed them each
and all at plain target-shot to the oncoming host.

Still, amid the pealing notes of the bugles, the Major waved his men
forward. Captain Pond, breaking loose from him and facing swiftly
towards the Cove-head, with a flourish of his blade called upon his
mainguard.

Under the volley that thereupon swept the beach, the invaders did
indeed waver for a moment--so closely it resembled the real thing.
As the smoke lifted, however, by the murky glare of the torches they
were seen to be less demoralised than infuriated. And now, upon the
volley's echo, a drum banged thrice, and from a boat just beyond the
water's edge the Troy bandsmen crashed out with:

"The Rout it is out for the Looes,
For the Looes;
Oh, the Rout it is out for the Looes!"

"Forward! Forward, Troy!"

"Steady, the Two Looes! Steady, the Diehards!"

"Form up--form up, there, to the left! Hurray, boys! give 'em the
bagginet!"

"Death to Invader! Reload, men! Oh, for your lives, reload! Make
ready, all! Prepare! Fire!"

"Mr. Spettigew! Mr. Spettigew!"

"Eh?" Uncle Issy turned as William Oke plucked him by the sleeve.
"What's the matter now? Reload, I tell'ee!"

"I--I can't, Mr. Spettigew. I've a-fired off my ramrod!"

"Then you'm a lost man."

"Will it--will it have killed any person, d'ee think?" Oke's teeth
rattled like a box of dice as he peered out over the dark and
agitated crowd of boats.

"Shouldn' wonder at all."

"I didn' mean