Then Captain Hull signals to Hayne, while Rayner and three or four
soldiers sit in silence, watching the man who is to lead the charge. He
dismounts at a little knoll a few feet away, tosses his reins to the
trumpeter, and steps to his saddle-bags. Hayne, too, dismounts.

Taking his watch and chain from the pocket of his hunting-shirt, he
opens the saddle-bag on the near side and takes therefrom two
packets,--one heavily sealed,--which he hands to Hayne.

"In case I--don't come back, you know what to do with these,--as I told
you last night."

Hayne only looks imploringly at him: "You are not going to leave me
_here_, captain?"

"Yes, Hayne. You can't go with us. Hark! There they go at the right. Are
the packages all right?"

Hayne, with stunned faculties, thinking only of the charge he longs to
make,--not of the one he has to keep,--replies he knows not what. There
is a ringing bugle-call far off among the rocks to the westward; a
rousing cheer; a rattling volley. Rayner springs off to his men on the
hill-side. Hull spurs in front of his eager troop, holding high his
pistol-hand:

"Now, men, follow till I drop; and then keep ahead! Come on!"

There is a furious sputter of hoofs, a rush of excited steeds up the
gentle slope, a glad outburst of cheers as they sweep across the ridge
and out of sight, then the clamor and yell of frantic battle; and when