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of Mobiles to advance at once, covered by skirmishers.

"Captain Barclay, order that Line regiment to support.

"Captain Maillot, order the artillery to concentrate their fire

upon the village, and to advance by batteries."

The orders were carried out, and the Mobiles advanced to within

five hundred yards of the village. The musketry fire was now

tremendous, and the Mobiles wavered. The Germans were entrenched in

the gardens and walled enclosures of the village. Every wall, every

house was loopholed; and rough barricades had been erected, to fill

up the breaks in the walls.

General Chanzy was sitting on horseback, a short distance in the

rear of the fighting. Mounted officers rode up and left again,

every moment, with news of the battle going on near the other

villages.

"Ride up and order the Mobiles to lie down, Captain Barclay; then

tell the colonel of the Line to bring his troops up in line with

them. Let them lie down, also.

"Tempe, have the two reserve batteries of artillery brought up, at

full speed, to silence that battery in the wood to the left of the

village. Its fire crosses the ground we have to pass over."

Ten minutes more of continuous cannonading, and then it was

apparent that the Prussian fire was weakening.

"Now, Barclay, tell them to charge, at the double."

Ralph set spurs to his horse but, just as he reached the troops, a

shell exploded just under his horse. Ralph heard a crash; felt a

shock, and a whirling through the air; and then fell heavily upon

the ground. Believing he was dangerously wounded, he made no effort

to get to his feet; but sat up and shouted to the colonel of the

Mobiles, who were not thirty yards from him:

"The Mobiles and Line are to charge, at the double, and to carry

the village with the bayonet."

The Mobiles had flinched a little before, as they had advanced with

the deadly fire of shot and shell; but they did not flinch now, and

leaping upon their feet, with a cry of "Vive la France!" the

Mobiles and Line soldiers literally made a race of it for the

village.

Ralph, after having given his message, lay back again, with a sort

of bewildered sensation. A minute afterwards he heard a rapid

galloping; and Colonel Tempe rode up, followed by Tim Doyle.

"Are you badly hurt, my dear boy?" the former exclaimed, as he

leaped from his horse. "The general himself asked me to come, and

see after you."

"I don't quite know, colonel," Ralph answered. "I feel, at present,

as if my head was knocked in, and my legs shot off."

"You had a tremendous shake," said Colonel Tempe--who was, with

Tim, by this time kneeling beside him--"and your horse is blown

almost to pieces; but I don't think, as far as I can see, at

present, that you are hit anywhere. Here, take a sip of brandy. It

will bring you round; you are stunned a little, you know.

"There, you are better now," he said; as Ralph, having drunk a

little brandy, sat up and looked round.

"I am all right, I think, colonel; don't stay any longer. Tim will

wait here. I don't think I was stunned, else I could not have given

the order. No, I imagine I had a near escape of breaking my neck.

"Please, don't wait. I shall be all right again, in five minutes. I

will take Tim's horse, and join you again. Tim will pick up a

musket--there are plenty about--and do a little fighting on his own

account."

Colonel Tempe jumped on his horse, and rode off. In a minute or

two, Ralph was able to mount Tim's horse, and ride slowly up to the

village, where a heavy musketry fire was still going on; but as no

shell or shot were now coming in the direction in which Ralph was,

it was evident that the French had taken the position, and had

opened fire upon the retreating Germans. The fight still raged,

both to the right and left; but in another quarter of an hour it

slackened also, here, and the three villages were all in the hands

of the French.

In a quarter of an hour, Ralph felt quite himself again and, seeing

one of his fellow staff officers gallop up, he asked him where he

could find the general.

"He is at Guillonville. But he will be here, in a few minutes. The

advance is to continue. We are to carry the villages of Monneville,

Villepani, and Faverolles."

In half an hour, the troops were again moved forward; but this time

the resistance was more obstinate than before, the Prussians having

received reinforcements. Hour after hour the fight continued. The

short winter day faded, and the gathering darkness was favorable to

the assailants and, at half-past five, they carried the villages by

assault.

The scene was a wild one. It was perfectly dark, save from the

incessant flashes of rifle and cannon. In the streets of the

village men fought, hand to hand. Some of the Germans, taking

refuge in the houses, refused to surrender. Others threw down their

arms, and cried for quarter. Shouts, screams, curses, cheers, the

explosion of firearms and the clash of steel mingled, in one wild

and confusing din. When it ceased, the village remained in the

hands of the French; and the Prussians retreated, sullenly, into

the darkness.

There was no rest for the staff, for hours--they were galloping

about, carrying orders--but at last Ralph returned to Villepani, at

which village General Chanzy had his headquarters. At the door of

the cottage which was pointed out, as that in which the general

was, Tim was waiting.

"Faith, your honor, if this is war, I've had enough of it."

"What is it, Tim?"

"What is it, your honor! Here have we been fighting all day, and

not a blessed thing to eat or to drink. No one knows what became of

the wagons; and here we are, without as much as a biscuit to

ate--and in such weather as this, too; and another battle in the

morning."

"Ay, Tim, it's bad enough, but think of the thousands of poor

fellows lying wounded, and freezing to death, on the snow."

"I do think of them, Mister Ralph; and I've been at work, ever

since we got in here, carrying the poor creatures in from the

gardens and fields. There is not a house here that's not full, from

the top to the bottom.

"Have you lost the wallet off my saddle, your honor?"

"No, Tim; why should I do that?"

"I don't know why you should, sir, but I have been making up my

mind that you would, all along; either that you would have had it

shot off, or that you'd throw it away to aise the horse. Now, we

shall do."

"Why, what's in the wallet, Tim?"

"Just a big chunk of bread, your honor It was left on the table

when you had breakfast, this morning; and I said to myself, it may

be useful before night, and so just slipped it into the wallet."

In another minute the bread was taken out, and cut into two

portions.

"I would not eat it all tonight, Tim, if I were you," Ralph said.

"It is not by any means too large for supper, but a mouthful in the

morning will be a great comfort. I suppose there is no chance of

getting anything for the horse?"

"Trust me, your honor One of the first things I did, when the

firing was over, was to pop into a stable and to get a big armful

of hay; and take it out and hide it away, under a hedge. It was

lucky I did; for the minute afterwards we could not have got a

handful, if we had offered a Napoleon for it."

"Where are you going to sleep, Tim?"

"Under that same hedge, Mister Ralph. The horse always lies down;

and he's so tired he won't break the rule, tonight; so I'll give

him half the hay for his supper and, when he's laid down, I'll put

the rest between him and the hedge, and roll myself up in my cloak

and--what with the cloak, and the horse, and the hedge, and the

hay, not to mention the supper--I shall be as warm as a lord; and

it's a comfort to think that there will be something to eat, both

for the baste and myself, in the morning."

"Well, good night then, Tim."

"Good night, your honor."

If Tim Doyle slept, there were not many of his comrades that did, on

that night. The cold was fierce, in the extreme; and those who could

obtain wood of any kind made fires, and crouched over them. Others

lay on the ground, and huddled together for warmth. Others dragged

their feet wearily backwards and forwards. Many and deep were the

curses poured out upon the intendance--or commissariat--whose utter

incompetence, throughout the war, was one of the great reasons of

the continuous bad fortune of the French.

When Ralph entered the room, he was saluted by a variety of voices.

The only light was a dim lantern. The room was half full of

officers; some dozing in corners, others sitting round the table,

smoking.

"Where is the general?"

"He has got a room, about half the size of this, for the use of

himself, Tempe, and the chief of the staff. They are writing; and

will go on writing all night, I expect. These are the only two

rooms not full of wounded in the whole village.

"You had a narrow escape, today. We have had our share of

casualties. Poor Maillet and Porcet are both killed, and we have

three wounded. Were you hurt at all?"

"No," Ralph said; "but I was tremendously shaken, and feel stiff

all over. I will lie down by the wall, here, and get a few hours'

sleep."

And so ended the 1st of December.

Chapter 19: Down At Last.

At half-past eight o'clock the next morning horsemen came dashing

in, with the news that the Germans were advancing in force.

Stiff--many half frozen, and half starved--it was an absolute

relief, to the men, to have some break to the monotony of cold and

hunger. They were already assembled under arms and, in a few

minutes, the artillery upon both sides was at work.

"I fear you will see that we shall be beaten, today," Colonel Tempe

said to Ralph as they mounted. "The men are worn out with hunger;

disgusted at the wretched mismanagement, which sends them into a

battle without having had food for twenty-four hours, and with no

prospect whatever of it for another twenty-four. Besides, we ought

to have been reinforced.

"Our line is too long, Ralph. There is neither direction nor

management."

For a time the French held their position well, against the

tremendous artillery fire which was maintained upon them.

Gradually, however, the Germans pushed their heavy masses of troops

forwards; and the French reserves had already been brought up.

Several of the mobile regiments showed signs of wavering. General

Chanzy rode backwards and forwards along the front of the position;

exposing himself recklessly, in order to give courage and

confidence to his men. Cigar after cigar he smoked, as tranquilly

as if sitting in an armchair, a hundred miles away from the din of

battle. At last, after exchanging a few words with the generals of

brigade, he called Ralph--who happened to be the only aide-de-camp

unemployed--up to him.

"Captain Barclay," he said, "ride at once to General Sonis. Tell him that

my division--not having received the promised reinforcements--must fall

back. He has already sent, to say he is hard pressed. Ask him to hold his

ground, if possible, for another half hour; by which time I shall have

fallen back towards the position I left yesterday morning--but will draw

rather to my right, so as to keep our connections nearer, and to afford

him help, if necessary."

Without a word Ralph turned his horse, and galloped off at full

speed. A quarter of an hour's riding, and he rode up to General

Sonis; who was just calling upon several regiments, among whom were

the Papal Zouaves, to make a charge.

This fine body of men--the Papal Zouaves--acquired, and justly

acquired, more glory than any other French corps throughout the

war. They behaved, upon every occasion, magnificently. In the first

fight at Orleans, upon this 2nd of December, and afterwards at the

battle of Le Mans, the Zouaves of Charette fought with the courage

of lions. A great many of them were men of good family. All were

inspired by the ardor and spirit of their chief. Their uniform was

similar in cut to that of the French Zouaves; but was of a quiet

gray color, trimmed with a little red braid.

Ralph rode up, and delivered his message.

"I am going to carry that position, sir," the general said; "and in

that case I shall not have to fall back at all, and General Chanzy

can close up on me--throwing back his left, so as not to be

outflanked. If you wait a few minutes, you will see the result of

this charge.

"Now, gentlemen."

So saying he rode, with his staff, in front of the line.

"Forward, men!" he shouted, drawing his sword.

Ralph had naturally fallen in with the staff, and was now able to

see and admire the daring of the proposed movement which, if

successful, would have changed the fortunes of the day. Upon an

eminence, some three-quarters of a mile distant, were several

batteries of artillery; supported by a large body of infantry, who

extended to within about half the distance between the French line

and their own reserves. The fire was terrific--so terrific that

several of the French regiments refused to advance. Others started;

but withered away so fast, under the deadly fire, that only two

corps--besides the Zouaves--persevered to the end.

The Zouaves advanced at a double, but with as much coolness as if

on parade. They did not fire a shot, but made straight at the

Prussian infantry. As they approached the enemy's line, General

Sonis and his staff fell in between the Zouaves, and a regiment of

Mobiles next to them, in order not to interfere with the fire.

"For God and France!" Charette shouted, as he led the charge; and

the whole regiment responded, as one man, "For God and France!"