The line was then so torn that all cohesion was lost; they were advancing in clumps and clusters.
Captain Wintle, Cornet Leland, Sir William Lennox, Sergeant Linham, Brittain, Pearson, and Jack were all together, just to the right rear of Lord Cardigan, when the guns in front, not eighty yards away, were all fired simultaneously. The flash from the muzzles seemed almost to burn and blind the devoted riders advancing upon them, a shower of grape swept through them, and almost the whole of the front rank vanished. Jack just had time to notice that he and Linham were the only two left of all who had been together a moment before; then they were in the smoke of the guns, past the gleaming brass muzzles, and in amongst the leather-helmeted artillerymen, cutting and thrusting with the anger of men who have seen their best comrades blown to pieces.
Jack found himself opposed to an immense, beetle-browed fellow, who aimed a blow at him with a rammer. Jack drew his pistol and immediately shot him through the head. Another artilleryman made a cut at him with his sword, but Jack clove his head and made a point at another fellow, who crept under the wheels of his gun to escape. Vain hope, a Lancer behind Jack saw him, and in another moment had pinned him to the ground with his lance.
For a couple of minutes, Lancers and Dragoons, the remnant of the leading regiments not more than fifty men in all, raged among the battery, and very few Russians lived to relate their experiences. The battery silenced, Jack rode on with his comrades, who then found themselves faced by a dense mass of Russian cavalry.
Captain Norreys immediately held up his sword. ‘Rally on me, 17th,’ he cried; and about twenty men formed behind him.
Jack, sword in hand, placed himself with the rest, when the gallant captain cried, ‘Now, men, keep together—charge!’ and away they went at the Russian Dragoons, who sat perfectly still awaiting the shock.
Captain Norreys rode straight for the officer in command, and with his sword pierced him through and through. The Russian threw up his arms and fell from the off-side of his horse; and the Lancer, being unable to withdraw his blade, which was fastened to his wrist by the sword-knot, was held a prisoner.
As Jack flew past he saw his officer receive a cut on the side of the head which brought him from the saddle. There was no time to stop, however, and he dashed on with the handful of Lancers, who crashed into the Russians, unhorsing and killing a good many, when the rest instantly turned and fled. The Lancers pursued them for some distance till they found themselves being charged in turn by a horde of Cossacks, who were taking them in flank, when they drew off towards a small party of the 13th.
Jack then saw Lord Cardigan some distance ahead, sitting quite calmly on his horse, with his sword at the slope, while several Cossacks circled round him, poking at him with their lances. A large troop of Cossacks were just in front of Lord Cardigan, and it seemed as if his enemies were more intent on capturing than killing him.
‘Come on, boys! the chief’s in danger,’ cried Jack; and he dashed forward just as a Cossack got his lance entangled in Lord Cardigan’s pelisse.