“Troopers, rally around your commander! Steady, now, charge!”
Gallantly the soldiers rallied around their officer, and dashed forward with him to recover the ground lost by the emigrants.
But already had Ricardo bounded on horseback over the barrier. Followed by a dozen of his daring horsemen, he dashed upon the dismounted troopers, who, in a vain attempt to check his mad career, fell beneath the iron hoofs of the outlaws’ horses.
“My God, it cannot be that all is lost!” cried Percy la Clyde, in dread.
Then, drawing his sword, he shouted:
“Troopers, come on! Men, they are but a handful of murdering thieves; follow me, and drive them back!”
In vain were his gallant example and clear commands. In vain sounded the orders of Major Conrad, who, in a frenzy, strove to stay the torrent of defeat.
In vain was the conspicuous courage of Howard Lawrence. Useless, too, was the discipline and bravery of the troopers; all was useless, for from some unaccountable reason a panic had seized upon the settlers, brave men though they were, and fighting for all they held dear on earth.
They gave ground rapidly, until twoscore of the outlaws had secured a footing within the inclosure, and by the light of the waning moon, which made all around visible, Ricardo was forming his men for a desperate and final charge.
Then his clear voice was again heard, giving his stern orders. Before they could be obeyed, there was heard a wild and prolonged war whoop that made the blood of all who heard it turn cold with dread.