"I was in the last sortie and it is not my turn, Dieu merci! for it will be hot up there to-night. There are plenty of us, you see, and we take fair turns."
All was dark and still up along the distant hill-side, so void of offence that Jim began to wonder if Greski had not made a mistake. But after several impatient glances at his watch by the glow of his cigar, he said at last:
"Now--it is time! Watch!--over there!"
But the minutes passed--long, long minutes, almost the longest Jim had ever lived through.
"Doesn't seem coming off," he jerked.
"Wait!" jerked Greski, at tension also. "They were to start at midnight. They have a quarter-mile to cover, and they will go cautiously because the ground behind there is bad. We are to let them come right up and--ah--voilà!" as the darkness behind the new fort blazed and roared and became an inferno of deadly strife; terrific volleys of musketry and the hoarse shouting of men--no big guns, and presently even the firing became desultory, but the turmoil waxed louder and louder.
Greski danced with excitement.
"Mon Dieu! but they are fighting!--hand to hand! They are devils to fight, those Zouaves. I wish--I wish--but it is not safe here to wish."
The turmoil came rolling round this side of the hill; the Russians were falling back. Then flaming volleys broke out on each side of the turmoil.
"Ah--ah--ah! Supports from Korniloff," jerked Greski.