"Egad, I thought it would soon come to this," exclaimed the earl. "Glendonwyn, order the men to stand to their arms. How many are wanted?"
"One hundred rank and file," replied the aide, casting a glance of affection at our wine-casks.
"State to the corps what the general requires, Glendonwyn, and bring the whole forlorn hope here. Smith, meanwhile help yourself, while time and wine last."
"Egad, you are in luck here!" said the aide-de-camp.
Captain Glendonwyn hurried to where our battalion were bivouacked near a thicket; but in a few minutes he returned solus.
"Alone!" we all exclaimed, starting up; "what is the meaning of this?"
"I formed the battalion in column," replied Glendonwyn, whose cheek was flushing, while his eyes sparkled with emotion; "and in obedience to your lordship's order, required a hundred volunteers for a storming-party. The words had scarcely left my lips, when, as one man, the whole regiment stepped to the front, and claimed the dangerous pre-eminence."*
* A similar incident occurred with the 45th at Ciudad Rodrigo.
"My Fusiliers—bravo, my Fusiliers!" exclaimed the earl, with flashing eyes; "who would not be proud of leading such men as these?"
"Some of our old fellows, like Sergeant Drumbirrel and Corporal Mahony, who had been with us at Belle-Isle and in West Florida, demanded the forlorn hope as their right; and so, to end the matter, I ordered number one company to prepare for the assault."