"Call up my surgeon," commanded William to one of his officers. Lord Cutts was carried out of the firing line, and the King again directed his attention to the English, who, leaderless, were nevertheless dashing forward, though without order or method, sheer against the French fire. "It is too much for them," muttered William. This wild charge was suddenly checked by a deep precipice blown in the rock by underground powder magazines; the raw soldiers stood helpless, baffled. The air was of a continuous redness; the half-naked French gunners could be seen, running in and out of their vaulted galleries and crouching, behind the black shape of the guns; flying fragments of shell, masonry, and rock fell among the leaderless English, who hesitated, gave way, and retreated down the bloody slope they had gained, each rank falling back on the other in confusion, while a shout of triumph rose from the fiery ramparts of Namur. The King urged his beautiful horse up the zigzag path. The bullets flattened themselves on the rocks about him with a dull, pattering sound; the horse laid back its ears and showed the scarlet of its nostrils; the King, with infinite skill and gentleness, brought it to a higher ridge where he could better survey the heights. The English, rolling back beneath him, looked up and saw him though the smoke, the sun darting broken rays off the star on his breast. He took off his hat covered with black plumes and waved it to them to encourage them to come on. A ragged cheer broke from them; they plunged forward again, but a terrific fire swept them back with half their number fallen. At this moment the King saw Lord Cutts, hatless and with a bandaged head, running up towards the glacis. William rode up to him. The red fire was about them as if it had been the colour of the atmosphere. "My lord," said the King, reining up his horse, "they cannot do it." A young man in a splendid uniform came riding through the strong smelling smoke. "Sire," he said, saluting, "the Bavarians are giving way—their general hath fallen——" William spoke swiftly to the Englishman. "Can you rally your men to the assistance of the Bavarians, my lord? ’Tis hopeless to attempt to make a breach here." John Cutts smiled up at his master; he had to shout to make his voice heard through the rattle of the cannonade— "’Tis done, Your Majesty!"