Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1885-05-07
FABLE THE FIFTH.-CoSr,sr-rn


the Hash of the French bayonets and
ene word to fire. But it seemed no
more than moment between that word
ana the charge. An instant ago the
deep column was about to burst through
the line; now the line was sweeping the
broken column into the plain So, at
least, 1t was to one who was there: those
who We're not have doubtless more to
tell 1t seemed marvel The French
men turned their backs; the English
men holly followed. Who, at that mo-
ment of sudden victory, could feel the
savage rise in him? Not Stephen Har-
low, for he was a man.
More and more the flying column
broke, and man after man went down
before the pursuing steel. Order was
Lost, and the pursuit went far out into
the plain. 1t was rout; and if the
French had thus been met elsewhere,
the day was surely gained.
But hark-if any had ears to hear! A
thunder shook the plain, and nearer and
nearer the afternoon sun flashed back
from cuirass and sabre. Down upon that
struggling red line came the dragons,
and under that sudden aid the broken
SoihAiIi W ldCc TOuEu. II was
for the redcoatS to reel back, and to
gather as best they could. And the
men, whose blood was ON fire with fam
cied victory. and, being slow English
men, scarce knew what was upon them.
did gather with cheer. Stephen knew
no more than they, but he saw flash
OF steel before his eyes, and received a
sharp blow on one arm while he caught
the Kings colOrS with the other from
the lad who carried them, as the latter
went down. The scattered pursuers
formed somehow, and more by instinct
than by word of command, and with
fixed bayonetS, faced without tiinching
the new onset of the dragons, while
the rallied French foot opened fire
/ know not if Stephen Harlow
thought even of Patience then. Yet
he was not thinking of life, or he sure
ly would have thought of her he lived
for. Battle had bitten into him at last,
and he had the colors to guard or die
for. A rush like the roar of the sea
was in his ears. And then, for the first
time during that great battle, of which
he saw no more than the fraction of a
fraction, such as one soldier among
thousands may see, came the boom of
big guns. He knew that every COM
rade had his teeth set and his eyes
aglow, for so were his own. Up flashed
the sabers; down, like a whirlwind.
rode the dragons once more. There
was nothing for it but to wrap the
colors round his wounded arm, and to
fight for them so.
The Colonel was down; and for the
rest it was every man for England and
his own hand.
Then the whirlwind was followed by
darkness. Not even Patience was any
thing to Stephen Harlow more.
The real Dick Blackthorn, though he
had the honor and glory of opening the
fight of Talavera. saw little or nothing
of that famous battle. 1t was not be-
cause he was unwilling to do anything
except his duty, and he was as ready to
fight the French, on general principles,
as any man there; but good luck or i'll
luck, at any rate, luck of some sort,
pursued him steadfastly. He shouted
out his warning to the outpost, which,
indeed, by this time needed no further
warning, and then, instead of joining
them as they fell back upon the adj
vanced brigade to which they belonged.
held to his original purpose-if his I'M
pulse could be called by so fixed a word,
and put his horses head towards the
town. I think he had recognized the
uniform he ought to have been wear
ing. after all-indeed, l am sure; and
better be Portuguese than n British
deserter. But before he had got any
distance to speak of toward the lines
of Spain he found himself charging
alone upon the flank of an advancing
regiment of roUigeurs; and there was
nothing for it but make back for the
water-course again, where the banks
might cover him.
IF Yesterdays was fix, what's this
to be called?' thought he. ''Most de-
cidedly tixer. Pm cut off, horse, foot.
and all. I've half mind to get myself
taken prisoner. A prisoner of war
about the only thing I've never tried.
BY the Lord Harry, they're at it nown'
And there, all day long, lay Dick
Blackthorn perdu, as if he We're the
veriest coward lying in ditch to es-
cape powder and steel. But his skin
was by no means unhealthy thin, and
he felt no scruples on the point of
honor What did trouble him was the
uncertainty; and not even that troubled
him long, at least so soon as hunger re-
turned in full activity. But that also
had to be forgotten, so far as that in
exorcisable spirit may. He did his
best; and the battle of Talavera ragged
round Dick Blackthorn sitting in the
midst of it and attempting to kill no
enemy but time, with a cigar.
And over him also the ominous first
night fell, with its silence as of lurid
sky before its first sullen growl. Well,
night was the time for making his way
somewhither; in the present state of his
appetite it did not seem to matter much
where Better capture and crust than
liberty without a crumb. The French
might be in Talavera by this time, for
aught he knew. But nothing venture,
nothing win.
So, to prepare himself for the next
fortune of war, he buckled himself as
tight as he could, made himself quid
for he had been sailor; and then
but, behold. a sight that made his
heart leap for joy; the heart OF man
who had tasted nothing but tobacco,
and not much of that, for near four
and-twenty hours, and in near eight
and-forty little more than the scrapings
of an unknown bone.
It was hedgehog; nothing more.
Rut the soldier and sailor had been a
syvpsy. too, so far as a gentle may.
In trice he had put the bristly inno-
cent into a.clay pie, had lighted fire
of sticks, and then watched the baking
for a good hour. 1t was not too long;
ant IL could scarcely be UNDERGONE for