Foremost among them was Larry, who recognised Jack with a shout of welcome.
‘Praise the saints, you’re safe, Jack!’ he said. ‘Come on, this way; 17th and 8th for ever! Hurrah for the ould 25th!’
They dashed through the Russians and returned to the guns, where they were joined by a few men of the 4th Light Dragoons, and as fast as their tired horses would go they began to retreat down the valley, which, alas! was now strewn with dead and dying men and horses. Some on foot, some mounted, singly and in groups, the remnants of the brigade were staggering back. The Russians on the Causeway Heights had opened again with rifle and artillery, and were directing their fire on every little group.
Jack and his comrades did not number more than forty in all, till presently, down the valley, they came upon a little group of Englishmen engaged with a score of Cossacks. Jack recognised his own uniform, and to his joy saw Sergeant Linham and Will, the latter being dismounted.
Linham was engaged in a single combat with a Cossack officer, who made a cut which Linham parried. He prepared to return it when the Cossack officer threw up his hand, then handed the hilt of his sword to Linham.
‘Ha, hum, you toad!’ cried the sergeant; ‘form guard there, you heathen. Don’t give up till you’re hurt.’
The Russian understood nothing, and as Jack came up with his comrades he noticed the man was the very same whom they had last seen wounded in the cottage. He seemed to recognise Jack too.
Linham cried out angrily, ‘It’s opposed to all the rules of warfare to surrender in the middle of a fair fight; form your guard.’
‘Never mind that, Jim,’ said Will; ‘help me catch a horse.’
‘Here, Will,’ cried Jack, seizing the pony of a Cossack who had just been cut down; and he helped his chum into the saddle.