'Zounds!' said the Marquis, 'M. le Vicomte Arpajou, I shall trouble you, for poor friend and his box have gone together. Comrade,' he added, to a man who fell with a shriek, as his left leg was shattered by a musket-shot, 'why are you making such an outcry? it will not cure you; but here is my silk scarf, 'tis at your service as a bandage.' 'Bravo, comrades and gentlemen!' exclaimed Sir John Hepburn, brandishing his sword; 'here we are at the foot of the glacis!' Over it, the arquebuses à croc were pouring death and havock among us; but the destruction of their cannon had evidently dismayed the Lorrainers, and deprived them of all confidence. Still their fire was so steady and severe, directed as it was by the dawn which was breaking behind us, and clearly defined our figures, that we wavered now at the edge of the fosse, after surmounting and destroying the stockade by axes, hammers, and crowbars, and there was an unmistakeable reluctance to advance, while the stormers fell fast on every hand, and we heard the tumultuous cheers of Ramsay's covering column, which was pressing on our rear. Hepburn held aloft his purse. 'Forward, comrades!' he cried; 'a thousand francs to the first with me in the bastion.' Not a man among us stirred; he grew deathly pale, but still continued to brandish his sword, while the bullets sawed all the turf about him. 'Come on, sirs--my old Scots musketeers and gentlemen of the guard--Dundrennan, Douglas, Blane, and Bruce, follow me!' 'Hepburn, you have insulted us all by this offer of money,' said the Marquis of Gordon. 'My cross of Mont Carmel, in the King's name then,' he replied, with a flushing cheek, as he tore it from his breast and flung it into the fosse.* * An incident almost similar occurred with the Irish Brigade at Havannah. 'Hurrah!' burst from every tongue. 'Montjoie St. Denis!' cried Turenne. 'France--France and Scotland for ever!' added the Vicomte Arpajou. And with wild shouts that rent the air of the calm morning sky, we rushed into the fosse, and planting our echelles against the bastion, ascended, fighting hand-to-hand, and firing our pistols into the faces of the foe, as we grappled for life and death on the summit, and forced a passage in, with the loss of eighty brave Scottish soldiers. Sir John was the first man on the rampart; the second, and consequently the winner of the cross of Mont Carmel, was one of his own private musketeers, a poor gentleman from the braes of Angus, who rose to be count and general of cavalry in the French army.