For a moment there was a sharp melee; several of the sailors were shot or bayoneted, but the rest, using the butt-ends of their muskets with tremendous execution, fought their way through their opponents.  Jack had shot down two men with his revolver, and having got through, was taking his place at the rear of the men—­the proper place for an officer in retreat?—­when he saw Hawtry fall.  A Russian ran up to bayonet him as he lay, when Jack, running back, shot him through the head.  In a moment he was surrounded, and while in the act of shooting down an assailant in front, he was struck on the back of the head with the butt of a musket, and fell stunned across the body of his friend.  When he recovered consciousness, he found that he was being carried along by four Russians.  He could hear the boom of cannon and the rattle of musketry, and knew that the defenders on the heights were angrily firing at the retreating party, who had so successfully surprised them.  As soon as his bearers perceived that Jack had opened his eyes, they let him drop, hauled him to his feet, and then holding him by his collar, made him run along with them.

When they had mounted the other side of the slope, and were out of fire of the guns, the party halted, and Jack, hearing his own name called, looked round, and saw Hawtry in the snow, where his captors had dropped him.

“Hullo, Dick! old fellow,” Jack shouted joyfully; “so there you are.  I was afraid they had killed you.”

“I’m worth a lot of dead men yet, Jack.  I’ve been hit in the leg, and went down, worse luck, and that rascally Russian would have skewered me if you hadn’t shot him.  You saved my life, old fellow, and made a good fight for me and I shall never forget it; but it has cost you your liberty.”

“That’s no great odds,” Jack said.  “It can’t be much worse stopping a few months in a Russian prison, than spending the winter upon the heights.  Besides, with two of us together, we shall be as right as possible, and maybe, when your leg gets all right again, we’ll manage to give them the slip.”

The Russian officer in command of the party, which was about 200 strong, now made signs to the boys that they were to proceed.

Dick pointed to his leg, and the officer examined the wound.  It was a slight one, the ball having passed through the calf, missing the bone.

He was, however, unable to walk.  A litter was formed of two muskets with a great-coat laid between them, and Dick, being seated on this, was taken up by four men, and Jack taking his place beside him, the procession started.  They halted some four miles off at a village in a valley beyond the Tchernaya.

The next day the boys were placed on ponies, and, under the escort of an officer and six troopers, conducted to Sebastopol.  Here they were taken before a Russian general who, by means of an interpreter, closely examined them as to the force, condition, and position of the army.