“'Halloo, comrades!' shouted the tambour; 'don't leave me behind you.' And in an instant two grenadiers stooped down and hoisted him on their shoulders, and then rushed forward through the smoke and flame. Crashing and smashing went the shot through the leading files; but on they went, leaping over the dead and dying.”
“With the tambour still?” asked Pioche.
“To be sure,” said Minette; “there he was. But listen:—
“Just as they reached the breach a shot above their heads came whizzing past, and a terrible bang rang out as it went.
“'He is killed,' said one of the grenadiers, preparing to lower the body; 'I heard his cry.'
“'Not yet, Comrade,' cried the tambour; 'it is the drum-head they have carried away, that's all;' and he beat away on the wooden sides harder than ever. And thus they bore him over the glacis, and up the rampart, and never stopped till they placed him, sitting, on one of the guns on the wall.”
“Hurrah! well done!” cried Pioche; while every throat around him re-echoed the cry, “Hurrah!”
“What was his name, Mademoiselle?” cried several voices. “Tell us the name of the tambour!”