"Barclay," General Cambriels said, "go down to the battery, and bring me back word how they are getting on."
The scene quite lost its beauty to Percy, now, as he saw Ralph scramble rapidly down the hillside in the direction of the trees; among which the French battery was placed, and over and among which the shells were bursting, every second. It seemed like entering a fiery furnace.
It was a terribly long ten minutes before Ralph was seen, climbing up the hillside again; and Percy's heart gave a jump of delight, when he first caught sight of his figure. As Ralph came near, his brother saw that he was very pale, and had a handkerchief bound round one arm. This was already soaked with blood. He kept on steadily, however, until he reached the general; who had, upon seeing he was wounded, advanced to meet him.
"One gun is dismounted, sir, and half the men are killed or wounded."
"Go down, Harcourt, and tell Herve to fall back at once; and to take position in the clump of trees, a quarter of a mile down the valley, so as to sweep the entrance.
"Laon, go to the right, and you, Dubois, to the left. Order the franc tireurs to retreat along the hillside and, when they get to the end of the gorge, to form in the plain, and fall back to the first village.
"You are wounded, Barclay. Not seriously, I hope?" he said, kindly, as the officers hurried away on their respective missions.
"A splinter of a shell, sir," Ralph said, faintly. "I don't think it has touched the bone, but it has cut the flesh badly."
Ralph was just able to say this, when his head swam; and he would have fallen, had not Percy caught him in his arms, with a little cry.
"He has only fainted from loss of blood," the general said. "Two or three handkerchiefs, gentlemen.