can tell you, but he
wasn't allowed."

"They were far too strong for you; I could see that myself."

"That's what Lord Raglan said. As if any one of us was not good enough
for twenty Russians! But he was particularly anxious, so I heard him
say, not to be drawn into an action to-day."

"No doubt he was right," replied old Wilders. "Only it can't be put
off much longer. Unless I am greatly mistaken, to-morrow we shall be
at it hammer and tongs."

"I hope I shall be somewhere near!" cried Hugo, gaily. "But where are
the Royal Picts? Oh! here! I want to give Anastasius good-day."

He found his younger brother was carrying the regimental colours, and
the two young fellows exchanged pleasant greetings. It was quite a
little family party, for just behind, in the centre of the line, stood
Sergeant-major McKay, the unacknowledged cousin. How many of these
four Wilders would be alive next night?

No doubt a battle was imminent. It was more than possible that there
would be a night attack, so both armies bivouacked in order of battle,
ready to stand up in their places and fight at the first alarm.

But the night passed uneventfully. At daybreak the march was resumed,
and the day was still young when the allies came upon what seemed a
position of immense strength, occupied in force by the Russian troops.

It was a broad barrier of hills, at right angles with the coast, lying
straight athwart our line of march. The hills, highest and steepest
near the water's edge, were still difficult in the centre, where the
great high road to Sebastopol pierced the position by a deep defile;
beyond the road, slopes more gentle ended on the outer flank in the
tall buttresslike Kourgane Hill. All along the front ran a rapid
river, the Alma, in a deep channel. Villages nestled on its banks--one
near the sea, one midway, one on the extreme right; and all about the
low ground rich vegetation flourished, in garden, vineyard, and copse.

These were the heights of the Alma--historic ground, hallowed by many
memories of grim contest, vain prowess, glorious deeds, fell carnage,
and hideous death.

"We are in for it now, my boy," whispered Sergeant Hyde, who was one
of the colour-party, and stood in the centre of the column, near
McKay.

"What is it?" asked the young sergeant-major eagerly. "A fight?"

"More than that--a general action. In another hour or two we shall be
engaged hotly along the whole line. Some of us will lose the number of