"I wouldn't order or even ask you to try; but if you're bent on it--"
"It may save hundreds of lives."
"Then I'll borrow you a hatchet, and call for volunteers."
He turned to the regiment. "I want twenty men fond of mountain-climbing to go on a little excursion with Lieutenant Botskay."
More than half the regiment stepped to the front, and, selecting a score, I told them what we were going to do.
The major sent for some hatchets, and then informed Görgei, who instantly dispatched a cloud of sharpshooters to distract the enemy's attention.
Unbuckling my sword, I gave it to Rakoczy, and, in case of accidents, wished him good-bye.
Stephen had been sent on an errand by the general, and I was rather pleased than otherwise by his absence; the knowledge that he was below, gazing up at me and trembling for my safety, might have preyed on my nerve.
My twenty men--all muscular, wiry fellows--laid aside their rifles, and, axe in hand, stood ready to mount.
Fifty of the finest marksmen waited beneath the cliff, ready to follow in our track if we should find or cut a path, and to protect us from the enemy's fire.