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Page 89
Crash! Another shell burst near, and told him to quit thinking of old
times and attend to the business before him. The past had nothing more
mighty than the present. The speed of the Strangers was increased a
little, and the French regiments on either side kept pace with them.
More shells fell. They came, shrieking through the air like hideous
birds of remote ages. Some passed entirely over the advancing troops,
but one fell among the French on John's right, and the column opening
out, passed shudderingly around the spot where death had struck.
Two or three of the Strangers were blown away presently. It seemed to
John's horrified eyes that one of them entirely vanished in minute
fragments. He knew now what annihilation meant.
The heavy French field guns behind them were firing over their heads,
but there was still nothing in front, merely the low green hills and not
even a flash of flame nor a puff of smoke. The whistling death came out
of space.
The French went on, a wide shallow valley opened out before them, and
they descended by the easy slope into it. Here the German shells and
shrapnel ceased to fall among them, but, as the heavy thunder
continued, John knew the guns had merely turned aside their fire for
other points on the French line. Carstairs by his side gave an immense
sigh of relief.
"I can never get used to the horrible roaring and groaning of those
shells," he said. "If I get killed I'd like it to be done without the
thing that does it shrieking and gloating over me."
They were well in the valley now, and John noticed that along its right
ran a dense wood, fresh and green despite the lateness of the season.
But as he looked he heard the shrill snarling of many trumpets, and, for
a moment or two, his heart stood still, as a vast body of German cavalry
burst from the screen of the wood and rushed down upon them.
It was not often in this war that cavalry had a great chance, but here
it had come. The ambush was complete. The German signals, either from
the sky or the hills, had told when the French were in the valley, and
then the German guns had turned aside their fire for the very good
reason that they did not wish to send shells among their own men.
John's feeling was one of horrified surprise. The German cavalry
extending across a mile of front seemed countless. Imagination in that
terrific moment magnified them into millions. He saw the foaming mouths,
the white teeth and the flashing eyes of the horses, and then the tense
faces and eyes of their riders. Lances and sabers were held aloft, and
the earth thundered with the tread of the mounted legions.
"Good God!" cried Wharton.
"Wheel, men, wheel!" shouted Captain Colton.
As they turned to face the rushing tide of steel, the regiment of
Bougainville whirled on their flank and then Bougainville was almost at
his side. He saw fire leap from the little man's eye. He saw him shout
commands, rapid incisive, and correct and he saw clearly that if this
were Napoleon's day that marshal's baton in the knapsack would indeed
become a reality.
The Paris regiment, kneeling, was the first to fire, and the next
instant flame burst from the rifles of the Strangers. It was not a
moment too soon. It seemed to many of the young Americans and Englishmen
that they had been ridden down already, but sheet after sheet of bullets
fired by men, fighting for their lives, formed a wall of death.
The Uhlans, the hussars and the cuirassiers reeled back in the very
moment of triumph. Horses with their riders crashed to the ground, and
others, mad with terror, rushed wildly through the French ranks.
John, Carstairs and Wharton snatched up rifles, all three, and began to
fire with the men as fast as they could. A vast turmoil, frightful in
its fury, followed. The German cavalry reeled back, but it did not
retreat. The shrill clamor of many trumpets came again, and once more
the horsemen charged. The sheet of death blazed in their faces again,
and then the French met them with bayonet.
The Strangers had closed in to meet the shock. John felt rather than saw
Carstairs and Wharton on either side of him, and the three of them were
firing cartridge after cartridge into the light whitish smoke that hung
between them and the charging horsemen. He was devoutly thankful that
the Paris regiment was immediately on their right, and that it was led
by such a man as Bougainville. General Vaugirard, he knew, was farther
to their left, and now he began to hear the rapid firers, pouring a rain
of death upon the cavalry.
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