“It’s enough to make a strong man shrink,” I said. “Don’t look again. The next bullet may come between the stones and hit you.”
“But I must look,” he said angrily. “It’s quite time you and I did something to help.”
“If you are hit it will do every one else harm instead of good.”
He turned upon me fiercely, but calmed down directly.
“Yes,” he said; “I suppose you’re right. Oh, here’s the Sergeant coming up. He has done drilling, I suppose.”
The Sergeant announced that this was so directly after joining us.
“The boys are getting splendid with the sword now,” he said, seating himself upon a block of stone and wiping his moist brow; “but it’s dreary work not being able to get them to work.”
“Tell the Colonel to get them all out, then, and make a charge. We ought to be able to scatter this mob.”
“So we could, sir,” said the Sergeant gruffly, “but they won’t give us a chance. If they’d make a mob of themselves we’d soon scatter them, numerous as they are; but it’s of no use to talk; we can’t charge wagons and rifle-pits. It wouldn’t be fair to the lads. Why, they’d empty half our saddles before we got up to them, and then it would be horrible work to get through. No, it can’t be done, Mr Denham, and you know it as well as I do.”
“No, I don’t,” said my companion stubbornly. “It ought to be done. Once we were all through, the enemy would take to flight.”