‘The ball’s going to commence,’ said Pearson to Jack, ‘and we’ll teach these Russians a new dance if I’m not much mistaken.’ Words of command rang out in front, and the 11th Hussars were seen to be on the move, but not towards the enemy. By successive squadrons they moved, slowly and ceremoniously, and reformed behind the supporting squadrons, always leaving two squadrons facing the enemy. The Light Dragoons followed suit, and it became evident that retreat was the order of the day. An exclamation of regret burst from the Lancers, which was instantly repressed by the officers. No sooner, however, did the Russians see that the English cavalry was not going to advance than a rapid movement began. Their squadrons opened right and left and wheeled away, when two batteries of artillery came bounding up to the top of the ridge facing the British, hurriedly unlimbered, and opened fire. At the same time clouds of Riflemen topped the hills and began a hot fusillade. ‘By George, we’re in for it, after all!’ said Jack to Pearson as a round-shot came whizzing over his head and struck the ground just behind him. Mixed with the hum of round-shot came the vicious scream of shells, and presently one or two men and horses went down. All this while Jack’s regiment and the 8th were kept perfectly still, while the regiments which had been in their front retired by squadrons behind them. The 11th Hussars were just wheeling by Jack’s troop when a shell came screaming by and entered the body of a horse of the Hussars. It struck with a sickening squelch and then exploded, a horrible heap on the ground being all that remained of what a moment before had been a smart cavalryman. A second later a round-shot caught another Hussar on the foot, which it carried clean away. The gallant soldier glanced down and shifted himself in the saddle so as to retain his balance. ‘It’s only my foot,’ he said calmly; ‘the doctor’ll soon put that right;’ and he went on with his squadron. Jack’s regiment was then in front, and round-shot and shell, to say nothing of musket-balls, began to whiz about them. The round-shot could be distinctly seen coming, and the men ducked as though to avoid them, though they often went twenty feet above their heads. ‘Don’t duck, boys--don’t duck,’ said Sergeant Linham, who sat apparently quite unconcerned, looking about him. ‘If a shot’s coming for you no amount of ducking will make it miss you, and in India it wasn’t considered the thing for men to bob about. Remember the motto of the regiment. Ha, hum!’ Not another man moved, and presently a round-shot came plump in among them. ‘Hallo!’ cried a dozen voices, ‘Benson’s down! he’s killed! No, he’s up! Hallo, Fred! are you hurt?’ ‘Shook up a bit,’ said the Lancer in a dazed voice; ‘but the nag’s done for, I’m afraid;’ and that was true, for the poor animal’s head had been completely smashed by the shot.