r town, they
crossed the rivulet, fighting bravely, and charged against the height.
Already their leading files had gained the crag beside the chapel. A French
colonel holding his cap upon his sword-point waved on his men.

The grizzly features of the grenadiers soon appeared, and the dark column,
half-climbing, half-running, were seen scaling the height. A rifle-bullet
sent the French leader tumbling from the precipice; and a cheer--mad and
reckless as the war-cry of an Indian--rent the sky, as the 71st and 79th
Highlanders sprang upon the enemy.

Our part was a short one; advancing in half squadrons, we were concealed
from the observation of the enemy by the thick vineyards which skirted the
lower town, waiting, with impatience, the moment when our gallant infantry
should succeed in turning the tide of battle. We were ordered to dismount,
and stood with our bridles on our arms, anxious and expectant. The charge
of the French column was made close to where we were standing,--the
inspiriting cheers of the officers, the loud _vivas_ of the men, were
plainly heard by us as they rushed to the assault; but the space between
us was intersected by walls and brushwood, which totally prevented the
movements of cavalry.

Fearlessly their dark column moved up the heights, fixing the bayonets
as they went. No tirailleurs preceded them, but the tall shako of the
Grenadier of the Guard was seen in the first rank. Long before the end of
the column had passed us, the leading files were in action. A deafening
peal of musketry--so loud, so dense, it seemed like artillery--burst forth.
A volume of black smoke rolled heavily down from the heights and hid all
from our view, except when the vivid lightning of the platoon firing rent
the veil asunder, and showed us the troops almost in hand to hand conflict.

"It's Picton's Division, I'm certain," cried Merivale; "I hear the bagpipes
of the Highlanders."

"You are right, sir," said Hampden, "the Seventy-first are in the same
brigade, and I know their bugles well. There they go again!"

"Fourteenth! Fourteenth!" cried a voice from behind, and at the same
moment, a staff officer, without his hat, and his horse bleeding from a
recent sabre-cut, came up. "You must move to the rear, Colonel Merivale;
the French have gained the heights! Move round by the causeway; bring up
your squadrons as quickly as you can, and support the infantry!"

In a moment we were in our saddles; but scarcely was t