"It is well some of the regiment escaped what we went through," said Colonel Blythe, sadly. "My left wing was nearly cut to pieces. I was never under such a fire."
"How many have you lost, do you suppose?"
"We are now mustering the regiment: a sorrowful business enough. Seven officers are missing."
"What are their names?"
"Popham, Smart, Drybergh, Arrowsmith—"
"Anastasius—my young cousin—is he safe?" hastily interrupted the general.
Colonel Blythe shook his head.
"I missed him half way up the hill; he was carrying the regimental colour, but when we got into the battery it was in the sergeant-major's hands. I wish to bring his—the sergeant-major's—conduct especially before your notice, general."
"The sergeant-major's? Very good. But if he took the colour he must know what happened to Anastasius. Call him, will you?"
Sergeant-major McKay came up and saluted.