three pieces out of six on our left were lying with their men strewed in
the mud all round them. But the Duke had his eyes everywhere, and up he
galloped at that moment--a thin, dark, wiry man with very bright eyes, a
hooked nose, and big cockade on his cap. There were a dozen officers at
his heels, all as merry as if it were a foxhunt, but of the dozen there
was not one left in the evening.

"Warm work, Adams," said he as he rode up.

"Very warm, your grace," said our general.

"But we can outstay them at it, I think. Tut, tut, we cannot let
skirmishers silence a battery! Just drive those fellows out of that,
Adams."

Then first I knew what a devil's thrill runs through a man when he is
given a bit of fighting to do. Up to now we had just lain and been
killed, which is the weariest kind of work. Now it was our turn, and,
my word, we were ready for it. Up we jumped, the whole brigade, in a
four-deep line, and rushed at the cornfield as hard as we could tear.
The skirmishers snapped at us as we came, and then away they bolted like
corncrakes, their heads down, their backs rounded, and their muskets at
the trail. Half of them got away; but we caught up the others, the
officer first, for he was a very fat man who could not run fast.
It gave me quite a turn when I saw Rob Stewart, on my right, stick his
bayonet into the man's broad back and heard him howl like a damned soul.
There was no quarter in that field, and it was butt or point for all of
them. The men's blood was aflame, and little wonder, for these wasps
had been stinging all morning without our being able so much as to see
them.