"Charge, boys! charge!" cried all the rest, reining up their horses, and flourishing their swords.
"Where the plague are you going to charge?" asked the old tory.
"Why, into Georgetown, right off," replied they.
"Well, you had better have a care, boys, how you charge there, for I'll be blamed if you do not get yourselves into business pretty quick: for the town is chock full of red coats."
"Red coats!" one and all they roared out, "red coats! egad, that's just what we want. Charge, boys! charge! huzza for the red coats, damme!"
Then, clapping spurs to their steeds, off went these six young mad-caps, huzzaing and flourishing their swords, and charging at full tilt, into a British garrison town of three hundred men!!
The enemy supposing that this was only our advance, and that general Marion, with his whole force, would presently be upon them, flew with all speed to their redoubt, and there lay, as snug as fleas in a sheep-skin. But all of them were not quite so lucky, for several were overtaken and cut down in the streets, among whom was a sergeant major, a stout greasy fellow, who strove hard to waddle away with his bacon; but Selim was too quick for him: and Macdonald, with a back-handed stroke of his claymore, sent his frightened ghost to join the MAJORITY.
Having thus cleared the streets, our young troopers then called at the houses of their friends; asked the news; and drank their grog with great unconcern.
The British, after having for some time vainly looked for Marion, began to smell the trick, and in great wrath sallied forth for vengeance. Our adventurers then, in turn, were fain to scamper off as fast as they had made the others before, but with better success; for though hundreds of muskets were fired after them, they got clear without receiving a scratch.
But nothing ever so mortified the British, as did this mad frolic. "That half a dozen d—n-d young rebels," they said, "should thus dash in among us in open daylight, and fall to cutting and slashing the king's troops at this rate. And after all, to gallop away without the least harm in hair or hide. 'Tis high time to turn our bayonets into pitch forks, and go to foddering the cows."