A volley nothing could withstand. The columns halted, swayed, received another smashing volley, and another, and fell back in ruin.
'Excellent!' said Edrington.
The battery boomed again; a file of two redcoat soldiers was tossed back like dolls, to lie in a horrible bloody mass close beside Hornblower's horse's feet.
'Close up!' said a sergeant, and the men on either side had filled the gap.
'43rd, seven paces back — march!'
The line was below the crest again, as the redcoated marionettes withdrew in steady time. Hornblower could not remember later whether it was twice or three times more that the Revolutionary masses came on again, each time to be dashed back by that disciplined musketry. But the sun was nearly setting in the ocean behind him when he looked back to see the beach almost cleared and Bracegirdle plodding up to them to report.
'I can spare one company now,' said Edrington in reply but not taking his eyes off the French masses. 'After they are on board, have every boat ready and waiting.'
One company filed off; another attack was beaten back — after the preceding failures it was not pressed home with anything like the dash and fire of the earlier ones. Now the battery was turning its attention to the headland on the flank, and sending its balls among the redcoats there, while a battalion of French moved over to the attack at that point.
'That gives us time,' said Edrington. 'Captain Griffin, you can march the men off. Colour party, remain here.'
Down the beach went the centre companies to the waiting boats, while the colours still waved to mark their old position, visible over the crest to the French. The company in the cottages came out, formed up, and marched down as well. Edrington trotted across to the foot of the little headland; he watched the French forming for the attack and the infantry wading out to the boats.