not hear. The Colonel turned towards our
Captain, who was behind him, leaning forward over his horse, all
attention, with his sword lowered, receiving the orders given in an
undertone. We only heard the last sentence: "I shall support you with
the rest of the regiment."

"Thank Heaven!" thought I; "it is we; it is our dear squadron that is
to have the honour of attacking first." Every man pulled himself
together. Every man felt conscious of all the glory in store for us.
Every man prepared to perform exploits which, we felt sure, would
astonish the rest of the regiment, of the army, and of France.
Forward! Forward! Forward!

The troops had already ridden past the Colonel at an easy gallop, and
we suddenly found ourselves strangely isolated in that vast tract of
country which, a few minutes before, we had passed over in a body.
There was a succession of yellow or green fields, with here and there
some leafy thicket. On our left, surrounded by orchards, rose the grey
and massive buildings of the farm of Bel-Air. In front of us, some few
hundred yards off, there was a dark line of wood, the lower part of
which was hidden from us by a slight rise in the ground.

Hardly had the first troop reached the top of the brow when some shots
were fired at us. We at once understood. Again we were to be deprived
of the pleasure of measuring ourselves with their Uhlans at close
quarters. We saw distinctly on the edge of the wood, kneeling and
ready to fire, some fifty sharp-shooters in grey uniform and round
caps without peaks. We recognised them easily.

It was one of their cyclist detachments that had slipped into the wood
and had been quietly waiting for us with rifles levelled. As usual,
their cavalry had retired under cover of their line.

What did it matter to us? The wood was not thick enough to prevent
our horses from getting through, and the temptation to let the fellows
have a taste of our steel was too strong. I rejoiced at the thought of
seeing their heavy boots scuttle away through the trees. I resolved to
have a thrust at the skirts of their tunics, to help them on a bit.

The Captain understood the general feeling. "Form up!" he cried.

In a twinkling a moving wall had been formed, to the music of merrily
clinking stirrups and scabbards and jangling metal; and the gallop
towards the wood began.

Just at that moment its skirts were outlined by a circle of fire, and
a violent fusillade rang out. Bullets whistled in