regiment, shouting to Harry Glen
at the same moment to take command of the two companies on the right,
whose Captains, and Lieutenants had fallen. Two guns escaping from the
crush at the extreme right, had galloped down, and opened gallantly to
assist the regiment. Almost instantly horses and men went down under the
storm of bullets. An Aide broke through the cedars behind.

"Fall back--fall back, for God's sake!" he shouted. "The Rebels have got
around the right, and will cut you off."

"Fall back, boys," shouted the Captain in command, "but keep together,
listen to orders, and load as you go." The same instant he fell with a
ball through his chest.

"Sergeant Glen, you're in command of the regiment, now," shouted a dozen
voices.

The Lieutenant of the battery--a mere boy--ran up to Harry. A stream of
blood on his jacket matched its crimson trimmings.

"Don't go off and leave my guns, after I've helped you. Do not, for the
love of Heaven! I've saved them so far. Bring them off with you."

Harry looked inquiringly around upon the less than one hundred
survivors, who gathered about him, and had heard the passionate appeal.
Every face was set with mortal desperation. An Irish boy on the left was
kissing a cross which he had drawn from his bosom.

The tears which strong men shed in wild fits of rage were rolling down
the cheeks of Edwards, Bolton, and others.

"I don't want to live always!" shouted Kent with an oath; "let's take
the ----- guns!"

"I don't want no better place to die than right here!" echoed Abe, still
more savagely profane. "Le's have the guns, or sink into hell getting
'em!"

The remnant of the Rebel regiment had broken cover and rushed for the
guns.

"Attention!" shouted Harry. "Fix bayonets!"

The sharp steel clashed on the muzzles.

"FORWARD, CHARGE!"

For one wild minute shining steel at arm's length did its awful work.
Then three-score Rebels fled back to their leafy lair, and as many
blue-coats with drew into the cedars, pulling the guns after them.

"Pick up the Lieutenant, there, some of you who can do a little
lifting," said Kent, as they came to where the boy-artillerist lay dead.
"This prod in my shoulder's spoilt my lifting for some time. Lay him
on the gun and we'll take him back with us. He deserves it, for he was
game clear through. Harry, that fellow that gave you that beauty-mark
on the temple with his saber got his discharge from the Rebel army just
afterwards, on th