By three o’clock Mount Inkermann was free of Russians, all but the ghastly thousands of dead and wounded.
The French artillery followed the foe and did them some damage; but the ships from the harbour opened on them, and they retreated.
Night settled down in mist and fog and gloom, hiding the horrors on those blood-stained slopes. By eight o’clock the last gun had passed back into the Russian lines of defence.
The great battle of Inkermann was lost—and won!
CHAPTER XXXVII.
MISERIES ACCUMULATE
WHEN Jack got back to the lines of his regiment he found that Will, not much the worse for his broken head, had already returned.
It was more than likely that the timely warning they had been able to give the picket of the 41st saved a surprise on the part of the Russians which might have been most awkward for the British.
Jack and Will had, however, been ‘absent without leave;’ and though in their own regiment the part they had played became known, yet no official mention was made of it, for awkward questions might have been asked.
The next morning was bright and cold, and the whole of the battlefield could be seen. It was then, and only then, that the terrible nature of the struggle of the day before could be realised; and it was seen that the fog, though most confusing at the time, had yet been a blessing, for it had prevented the British from being disheartened by the tens of thousands who had been pitted against them, and the Russians from discovering the mere handful of British by whom they were opposed.