anced. "Hurrah! we're to help!" for an aid-de-camp from
General Sucre had just dashed up to Miller with orders.

We waited eagerly for the word to mount, but our turn had not yet come.
Two cavalry regiments moved off with Miller, and left us gazing at the
drama being unfolded before our eyes.

Our infantry columns marched to the attack like so many automatic
machines; the Royalists waited firmly, as if confident of victory. We
stood holding our horses, and quivering with excitement. Much would
depend upon the result of that first encounter.

"They're stopping to fire," cried Alzura. "Now they're moving again.
Viva! they're going to charge. Look at the sun on their bayonets."

Would the Royalists give way? No; they stood firm as the rocky heights
behind them--not a man moved. It seemed to me that there was not even
a tremor in the whole mass. If our fellows charged and failed, they
would be cut to pieces. We were like spectators in a theatre, only the
drama was a real one.

A mighty "Viva!" floated back to us as our men broke into the charge.
It was neck or nothing now--decisive victory or stern defeat.

"The Royalists will run," muttered Plaza; "they must."

But they did not, and the next instant bayonet crossed bayonet in
desperate conflict.

Excitement drove us well-nigh crazy. We cheered and shouted and waved
our sabres, as if by so doing we could help in the fight. Our troops
had met their match, and seemed to make no impression. Unless they
went forward shortly they must retreat.

"If they're driven back," remarked Plaza, "they are lost."

How the struggle would have ended I cannot tell, but just then we broke
into a cry of relief. The two cavalry regiments which had made a wide
detour were seen bearing down on the Royalists' flanks. They swept
along at hurricane speed. Nothing could stand against the shock of
their long lances. A portion of the Royalists, facing about, delivered
a telling volley at short range. Men and horses went down with a
crash, but the survivors were not checked. A second volley crashed
into them, making wide gaps, and then, with the force of a roaring
torrent, they literally swept away the barrier of men and steel.

"That settles it," said Plaza, breathing deeply; "the bravest troops in
the world couldn't recover from such a smashing blow. It's a case of
complete rout, in that part of the field at all events."

He was right too. The enemy would not, indeed co