‘Enough, my lord,’ answered Lord Cardigan quietly, saluting with his sword. Then turning and facing his men he said, ‘The brigade will advance.’ Lord Lucan first ordered the 11th Hussars back, leaving the 17th Lancers and 13th Light Dragoons in the front rank, 11th Hussars and 4th Light Dragoons in the second, and the 8th Hussars in the rear rank. These dispositions were made quietly and orderly; the lines were dressed, and the squadron, troop, and serrafile leaders took up their positions. Lord Cardigan called Lord Paget, the colonel of the 4th Light Dragoons, to him, and said, ‘My lord, I want you to give me your best support--mind, your best support.’ Lord Paget saluted his superior, saying, ‘You may rely upon me, my lord,’ and retired to his regiment. Lord Cardigan then placed himself about five horses’ length in front of his brigade, saying to Trumpeter Brittain of the 17th, who was his orderly, ‘Sound the trot,’ and the brigade moved off. Jack was behind Captain Wintle; on his right was Cornet Leland, and just behind him were Brandon, Pearson, and Williams. Will was with Captain Norreys in front. The men were in high spirits, though all realised the desperate venture on which they were about to be launched. ‘We’ll show ’em to-day whether cavalry are any good or not,’ said Pearson, as he gripped his lance firmly. ‘Ay, the heavies are not the only ones who can push home a charge,’ said Williams. ‘Ha, hum!’ sounded a voice from behind, ‘ye’ll be better keeping your breath, you toads. Use your arms more and your tongues less; we’ve got a long way to go;’ and Sergeant Linham blew violently down his nose. Most of them there were going on the longest journey of all--the last, long journey from whence none return. They had not proceeded very far when some shouting was heard from behind; a hoarse command to some one to halt it seemed. Jack turned his head and beheld a strange sight. Private Veigh, the regimental butcher, clad only in shirt and overalls, the former blood-stained, mounted on a white horse, a black clay-pipe in his mouth, a sword in his hand, was forcing his way into his proper place in the ranks. He had been busy killing oxen, when, hearing the trumpets of the Light Brigade sounding the advance, he had seized a sword, jumped bareback on the first horse he could see, and joined his troop. ‘If the old 17th’s going into action I’m going with it,’ he said, and in spite of the positive orders of his officers to retire he insisted on remaining, and went on with his regiment. They had got some little distance up the valley when Captain Nolan, who had announced his intention of charging with the brigade, and had taken up his position on the left flank, was seen spurring wildly forward, advancing diagonally across their front, waving his sword and shouting out something at the top of his voice as though he would address the brigade.