Part 38 (1/2)

Jasper Lyle Harriet Ward 47200K 2022-07-22

”He is no knave, certainly,” said Lyle, contemptuously.

The British force now began to move, in that determined way which proved it was in earnest, and having reached the points whence the artillery could work against the enemy, again halted.

Lyle saw that the humane Sir Adrian was still awaiting a signal for peace, and what was his horror, his rage, when he saw Gray rise from his kneeling position, and leap on the rough parapet before him. There stood the young deserter, unarmed, erect, motionless, undaunted.

Then Lyle, furious beyond control, raised his rifle, and fired; the ball struck the poor youth, who fell forward, and rolled down the face of the ridge into a rocky hollow, his blood marking his descent.

”Frankfort,” said Sir Adrian, ”what can be the meaning of that?”

”I cannot tell, Sir,” replied Major Frankfort; ”the man who so suddenly rose to our view was either a coward and panic-stricken, or a traitor to the cause he has enlisted in.”

”I rather think,” said Sir Adrian, ”he is some poor victim enlisted against his will, who chose to die rather than fight against us. He must have been sure that either we or his own party would have shot him after such a manoeuvre.”

And then, too much occupied to give a second thought to the unfortunate young man, Sir Adrian proceeded to inspect his force.

But Lyle's shot was received by Brennard as a signal, and forthwith he poured forth a volley from his flank. That to the left of the troops, and the right of the Boers, followed his example; but they miscalculated their distance, and did little mischief; it was returned, however, by a hearty salute of grape-shot, which, however, did little harm among the Dutch. Screened from their opponents, they affected to treat it with contempt, and Vander Roey, having dismounted and joined the line above, took off his hat, and gave an exalting cheer.

Then Lyle, and the gunners under him, made the great gun roar, as Lynx and Frolic described it, sitting at their mistress's feet, and laughing impishly at the deadly game playing before them.

A sharp tongue of flame, and then a great volume of smoke, burst from a gap in the ridge, and the ball, moving swiftly through the air, fell into the very centre of the troops, and made a vacant s.p.a.ce, where it burst.

The broken ground, the masked battery, the uncounted enemy, all were forgotten in the moment of indignation which followed this a.s.sault. Sir Adrian waved his cap, and advanced with his staff, but not too rapidly, giving time for the guns to work their way. The infantry proceeded in extended order. Another tongue of flame, another volume of smoke, threatened more mischief; but at this the force quickened its pace marvellously, and the ball fell harmlessly in the rear.

”Down the Trongate, my boys!” shouted an old grenadier of the Ninety -- th,--the regiment was composed chiefly of Renfrews.h.i.+re-men--”down the Trongate!” [Note 2] and away went the brave fellows over the rocky plain as steadily as though moving at the double along the peaceful streets of the old town of Glasgow.

This experienced little body of tried men, led by a cool-headed officer, were directed to their extreme left, where, it will be remembered, Lyle had placed a small party, which, by affecting concealment, was to divert the attention of the troops. In rear of this, it will also be remembered, was a gun fixed in the narrow jaws of a gorge. If a pa.s.sage could be made over this ridge into the gorge, the gun, which was immovably fixed in the rocks, could be brought to bear upon the rebels themselves.

On the first grand movement of the troops, this smaller rampart was abandoned to a very small force, and as there were no guns to spare, was defended by roers and rifles. British soldiers, however, were not to be daunted even by these unerring weapons; unenc.u.mbered by their knapsacks, in lieu of which Sir Adrian had ordered them to subst.i.tute light haversacks, they persevered in spite of the dropping fire which slightly thinned their ranks, and gradually working their way through the stones and scrub, took possession of the _rossjies_ (ridge), and speedily dislodging the besieged, scrambled down towards the gorge, and poured such a volley of musketry into it, as made the poor defenders of the pa.s.s cast their arms from them, and cry aloud for quarter.

The gun was instantly taken in hand, and, not without difficulty, brought to bear upon the right flank of the rebels in the rear, several of the Boers being detained in the gorge by the guard of the Ninety -- th, who knew that, without this precaution, the roers and rifles above would pour their fire upon them.

Lyle, standing in the bend of the rossjies, saw by this manoeuvre of the old soldiers that all chance of defence was lost, and at once rushed towards Vander Roey, and advised him to meet the forces on the plain.

The manoeuvre would have answered, had the Boers been organised for battle face to face with the foe; but the plan of operations had been to begin on the defensive, and retire behind a succession of these rossjies, till they reached a river impa.s.sable save at a ford difficult to pa.s.s except by practised men.

It was not long before Madame Vander Roey found herself the only tenant of the stony hill; the battery was deserted, but below were ranged a party of Boers, who, contriving to keep out of sight or the soldiers in the gorge, stepped out one by one, and, taking with sad precision, shot several. This insolence the Ninety --th attempted to return by firing the gun, but the ball fell innocently among the stones in the valley.

Again a Boer advanced, and lifted his roer--it was Herma.n.u.s the stutterer, one of the most determined--but this time the soldiers were beforehand with him; ere he had time to lift his roer, he was stretched bleeding on the stones.

Madame Vander Roey watched the action from the very edge of the parapet.

Amid the din, the smoke, the groans of dying men and horses--a strange adjunct in that picture of strife and agony--was the figure of the rebel's wife; her long skirt falling far below her feet over the rocks, giving her the appearance of supernatural height, her head uncovered, and all her sable tresses streaming in the wind.

Many a stout heart quailed at first view of this singular apparition, as the sun, opening his crimson chambers behind it, threw out the tall form in bold relief between the rocks and sky.

On either side of her were crouched her impish pages, Lynx and Frolic, immovable and unappalled, as she was apparently.