but quickly recovered
himself and leaped to his feet again. He saw through the flame and
smoke faces much like his own, the faces of youth, startled and aghast,
scarcely yet comprehending that this was war and that war meant pain and
death. The Invincibles, despite the single close volley that had been
poured into them, had the advantage of surprise and their officers were
men of skill and experience. They had left a long red trail of the
fallen as they entered the fort, but after their own single volley they
pressed hard with the bayonet. Little as was their military knowledge,
those against them had less, and they also had less experience of the
woods and hills.

As the Invincibles hurled themselves upon them the defenders slowly gave
way and were driven out of the fort. But they carried two of their
cannon with them, and when they reached the wood opened a heavy fire
upon the pursuing Southern troops, which made the youngsters shiver and
reel back.

"They, too, have some regular officers," said Colonel Talbot to
Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire. "It's a safe wager that several of
our old comrades of Mexico are there."

Thus did West Pointers speak with respect of their fellow West Pointers.

Exulting in their capture of the fort and still driven by rage, the
Invincibles attempted to rush the enemy, but they were met by such a
deadly fire that many fell, and their officers drew them back to the
shelter of the captured earthworks, where they were joined by their own
light guns that had been hurried down the slope. Another volley was
fired at them, when they went over the earthen walls, and Harry, as he
threw himself upon the ground, heard the ferocious whine of the bullets
over his head, a sound to which he would grow used through years
terribly long.

Harry rose to his feet and began to feel of himself to see if he were
wounded. So great had been the tension and so rapid their movements
that he had not been conscious of any physical feeling.

"All right, Harry?" asked a voice by his side.

He saw Langdon with a broad red stripe down his cheek. The stripe was
of such even width that it seemed to have been painted there, and Harry
stared at it in a sort of fascination.

"I know I'm not beautiful, Harry," said Langdon, "neither am I killed or
mortally wounded. But my feelings are hurt. That bullet, fired by some
mill hand who probably never pulled a trigger before, just grazed the
top of my head, but i