side. By this time Sebastopol was,
from end to end, a mass of flames, and by nightfall nothing save a
heap of smoking ruins, surrounded by shattered batteries, remained of
the city which had, for so many months, kept at bay the armies of
England and France.

All through the night Jack Archer had travelled backwards and forwards
between the crest of the hill and the hospital; for so great was the
interest of the wounded in what was taking place that he could not
resist their entreaties, especially as he could do nothing for his
brother, who was lying in a quiet, half-dreamy state.

The delight of the English army at the fall of the south side of
Sebastopol was greatly tempered by the knowledge that it was due to
the capture of the Malakoff by the French. Their own share in the
attack having terminated by a defeat, and the feeling which had been
excited by the fact that the Guards and Highlanders, who had taken no
part whatever in the trench-work during the winter, and who were in a
high state of efficiency, should have been kept in reserve, while the
boy battalions bore the whole brunt of the attack, found angry
expression among the men.

All that day the allied armies remained quiescent. It was useless to
attempt to occupy the burning town, and the troops might have been
injured by the explosions which took place from time to time of stores
of powder.

The Zouaves, however, and our own sailors made their way down in
considerable numbers, and returned laden with loot from houses which
had so far escaped the conflagration.

Happily the success of the French, and our own failure, did not create
any feeling of unpleasantness between the troops of the two nations.
As the remnants of the French regiments, engaged in the Malakoff,
marched in the morning to their camps, the second division was drawn
up on parade. As the leading regiment of Zouaves came along, the
English regiment nearest to them burst into a hearty cheer, which was
taken up by the other regiments as the French came along, and as they
passed, the English presented arms to their brave allies and the
officers on both sides saluted with their swords.

The next day the officers thronged down to see the ground where the
fighting had taken place. Around the Malakoff the ground was heaped
with dead. Not less had been the slaughter outside the work known as
the Little Redan, where the French attack had been repulsed with
prodigious loss.

The houses of the por