that the color sergeant was standing with his legs apart,
as if he expected to be pushed to the ground.

The following throng went whirling around the flank. Here and there
were officers carried along on the stream like exasperated chips.
They were striking about them with their swords and with their
left fists, punching every head they could reach. They cursed
like highwaymen.

A mounted officer displayed the furious anger of a spoiled child.
He raged with his head, his arms, and his legs.

Another, the commander of the brigade, was galloping about bawling.
His hat was gone and his clothes were awry. He resembled a man
who has come from bed to go to a fire. The hoofs of his horse
often threatened the heads of the running men, but they scampered
with singular fortune. In this rush they were apparently all
deaf and blind. They heeded not the largest and longest of the
oaths that were thrown at them from all directions.

Frequently over this tumult could be heard the grim jokes of the
critical veterans; but the retreating men apparently were not
even conscious of the presence of an audience.

The battle reflection that shone for an instant in the faces on
the mad current made the youth feel that forceful hands from
heaven would not have been able to have held him in place if
he could have got intelligent control of his legs.

There was an appalling imprint upon these faces. The struggle in