Mercer shrugged his shoulders. "I only carry the order," he said.
The stream of fugitives grew rapidly, becoming more disorderly, showing at every step the spread of the panic and the rout, as Colonel Ramsay stopped the advance and gave the order to retreat.
Slowly and reluctantly we obeyed, and as we retired through the second pass in the hills we saw the British gain the opposite ridge and advance with cheers on the disorderly flying mass in the sandy valley behind.
Every moment the press of the fugitives grew greater, and though we still maintained our formation and marched as on parade the retreat had turned into a rout. On every side and in our rear the broken ranks of the army poured past, demoralised and in despair, and ever nearer came the musketry and the cheers of the advancing English.
"They will catch us before we get through the gap," said Dick, looking at the pass in front of us.
"Then we will fight anyhow," I replied, "and General Lee can go to the devil."
Whereupon our spirits began to pick up, and the men retreated more slowly than ever, glancing over their shoulders to see how near the head of the British column was.
At last we came to the foot of the first pass, with its hills heavily covered with scrub pines. Behind us stretched the fields of broken troops, and we could see the red line of the British as they debouched upon the plain and drove the patriots before them.
It was a wild scene of confusion and disorder, of demoralised retreat and rout; and then something happened.
There was a stir in the pass in our front, a clatter of hoofs, and there appeared before us the General with his staff. He towered there with his great figure, a veritable god of war and of wrath.