It was Lord Cardigan who, at the head of the Light Brigade, sat still in his saddle, looking on.

Yet it was no one’s fault but his own that he had not been also engaged.  His men were within striking distance; they were bound, moreover, by the clearest canons of the military art to throw their weight upon the exposed flank of the discomfited foe.

But Lord Cardigan had strangely—­obstinately, indeed—­misunderstood his orders, and, although chafing angrily at inaction, conceived that it was his bounden but distasteful duty to halt where he was.

“Why don’t he let us loose at them?  Was there ever such a chance?” muttered Hugo Wilders, audibly, and within earshot of his chief.  He was again riding as extra aide to Lord Cardigan, who turned fiercely on the speaker.

“How dare you, sir, question my conduct?  You shall answer for your insubordination—­”

“Let me implore you, my lord, to advance,” said another voice, entreating earnestly, that of Captain Morris, a cavalry officer who knew war well, and who was, for the moment, in command of a magnificent regiment of Lancers.

“It is not your business to give me advice,” replied the general, haughtily.  “Wait till I ask for it.”

“But, my lord, see! the Russians are reeling from the charge of the Heavies.  Now if ever—­”

“Enough, Captain Morris.  My orders were to defend this position; and here I shall stay.  I was told to attack nothing unless they came within reach.  The enemy has not yet done that.”

So the chance of annihilating the Russian cavalry was lost, and the Light Brigade thought that its chances of distinction were also gone for the day.  Alas! the hour of its trial was very close at hand.

Lord Raglan had waited anxiously for the infantry divisions he had ordered up.  The first, under the Duke of Cambridge, was now close at hand, and the fourth, led by Sir George Cathcart, had arrived at a point whence it might easily have reached out a hand to recover the redoubts.  But Cathcart’s advance was so leisurely that Lord Raglan feared he would be too late to prevent the Russians from carrying off the guns they had captured from the Turks.  The enemy, it must be understood, were showing manifest signs of despondency:  their shattered cavalry had gone rapidly to the rear, and their infantry had halted irresolute, inclined also to retreat.

“This is the moment to strike them,” decided Lord Raglan.  “They are evidently losing heart, and we ought to get back the redoubts easily.  I will send the cavalry.  They are almost on the spot, and at any rate can get quickly over the ground.  Ride, sir,” to an aide-de-camp, “and tell Lord Lucan to recover the heights.  Tell him he will have infantry, two whole divisions, in support.”

They watched the aide-de-camp deliver his message; but still Lord Lucan, who was in supreme command of the cavalry, made no move.

“What is he at?” cried Lord Raglan, testily.  “He is very long about it.”