I explained the situation to him, and informed him of what had already transpired on the island. He was pleased with the victory which those who bore his name had achieved, and with this brilliant record of the Wimpleton battalion he was ready to retire. But while we were talking about the matter, the din of battle from the high ground saluted us. It appeared that Tommy Toppleton, too impatient to wait for the result of the flanking movement, had charged upon the company of Wimpletonians in front of him. Our fellows had wiped out the disgrace of the early part of the action, and had driven the enemy up the hill, over its summit, regaining all the ground lost, and taking the summit of the slope, which was “the key to the situation.” “This won’t do,” said Colonel Wimpleton, as he saw with dismay that his party was defeated. “I can’t take them away under these circumstances.” But the battle was lost to the Wimpletonians. Major Tommy had gained the crown of the hill, and held it with his whole force. The ground was so steep in front of him that double the number of the foe could not dislodge him. The enemy had not yet pitched their tents, and their baggage was now in danger of capture. Major Waddie consolidated his battalion, and formed a line at the foot of the hill, ready to defend his camp equipage. He was furious at his defeat, and when he saw me his eyes flashed fire. “Arrest that traitor!” said he, flourishing his sword, and pointing to me. “Not yet, Waddie!” interposed his father. “I have given him a safe conduct.” “You are not in command here,” replied the ungracious son. “What are you doing down here, Wolf Penniman?” “I should have gone before if your father had not detained me.” “Keep cool, Waddie,” said the colonel. “You have enough to do to whip the Toppletonians.” “That’s what I’m going to do,” added Major Waddie, as he glanced at the summit of the hill. “I will take care of Wolf, and see that he don’t whip the whole of you.” “I will hang him as a traitor if he don’t start quick. He has no business over here.” “He is a non-combatant,” laughed the colonel. I do not know what the gallant commander of the Wimpleton battalion would have deemed it necessary to do with me, if the exigency of battle had not called his attention to other matters. I do not pretend to be a brave fellow, but I am willing to say I was not afraid of being hanged, even independently of the powerful protection of the colonel. Major Tommy, flushed with his recent success, was intent upon following up his victory. I heard him call his battalion to the charge, and the words induced my feathery persecutor to leave me. Tommy evidently intended to drive the enemy into the lake, or to force them to surrender on the shore. “Charge--bayonets! Forward--march!” yelled he; and down came the Toppletonians at a furious pace. “Now stand up to it, fellows!” screamed Waddie. “This is your last chance. Don’t run if they punch you through.”