A tremendous cheer from the brigade, and the colonel charged at the head of his column, out by Death’s Alley.

The broken wall was melting away into the night.  The colonel wheeled his men to the right:  one company, led by the impetuous young Captain Jullien, followed the flying enemy.

The other attack had been only too successful.  They shot the sentries, and bayoneted many of the soldiers in their tents:  others escaped by running to the rear, and some into the next parallel.

Several, half dressed, snatched up their muskets, killed one Prussian, and fell riddled like sieves.

A gallant officer got a company together into the place of arms and formed in line.

Half the Prussian force went at them, the rest swept the trenches:  the French company delivered a deadly volley, and the next moment clash the two forces crossed bayonets, and a silent deadly stabbing match was played:  the final result of which was inevitable.  The Prussians were five to one.  The gallant officer and the poor fellows who did their duty so stoutly, had no thought left but to die hard, when suddenly a roaring cheer seemed to come from the rear rank of the enemy.  “France!  France!” Half the 24th brigade came leaping and swarming over the trenches in the Prussian rear.  The Prussians wavered.  “France!” cried the little party that were being overpowered, and charged in their turn with such fury that in two seconds the two French corps went through the enemy’s centre like paper, and their very bayonets clashed together in more than one Prussian body.

Broken thus in two fragments the Prussian corps ceased to exist as a military force.  The men fled each his own way back to the fort, and many flung away their muskets, for French soldiers were swarming in from all quarters.  At this moment, bang! bang! bang! from the bastion.

“They are firing on my brigade,” said our colonel.  “Who has led his company there against my orders?  Captain Neville, into the battery, and fire twenty rounds at the bastion!  Aim at the flashes from their middle tier.”

“Yes, colonel.”

The battery opened with all its guns on the bastion.  The right attack followed suit.  The town answered, and a furious cannonade roared and blazed all down both lines till daybreak.  Hell seemed broken loose.

Captain Jullien had followed the flying foe:  but could not come up with them:  and, as the enemy had prepared for every contingency, the fatal bastion, after first throwing a rocket or two to discover their position, poured showers of grape into them, killed many, and would have killed more but that Captain Neville and his gunners happened by mere accident to dismount one gun and to kill a couple of gunners at the others.  This gave the remains of the company time to disperse and run back.  When the men were mustered, Captain Jullien and twenty-five of his company did not answer to their names.  At daybreak they were visible from the trenches lying all by themselves within eighty yards of the bastion.