The other prisoners kneeled down; but I and Cross would not; and while we were resisting, the general repeated his order to fire; but the men were confused with the advance of the enemy, and the impossibility to fire while Cross and I not only resisted the soldiers, but held them so fast, that had the party fired they must have shot them as well as us. A cry "To arms" was given, and the troops all wheeled round in front to repel the enemy. A loud hurrah was followed by an inpouring of some hundred Cossacks, with their long spears who, in a few seconds charged and routed the French, who retreated in the greatest confusion by the different streets which led into the Grand Place. "Hurrah! we are saved," cried Cross, snatching up a musket that had been dropped by a soldier. I did the same, and pursued the retreating French, till a bullet through my leg put a stop to my progress. I called to Cross, who came to my assistance, and he helped me back to the Grand Place, which was now clear of troops. CHAPTER FORTY FOUR. The Cossacks having divided, and gone in pursuit of the French, I pointed out to Cross a hotel, and requested him to help me there. As we crossed the square, strewed with the dead and wounded, we passed close to General Moraud, who was breathing his last. "See, Cross," said I, "there is retribution. He intended that we should fall where he now lies." The general recognised us, gave a heavy groan, and, turning on his back, fell dead. As soon as I gained the hotel, I was taken up into a room, and made as comfortable as I could be until my wound could be dressed. "We're well out of it this time, sir," said Cross. "Yes, indeed, Bob; this has indeed been a miraculous preservation, and we ought to thank Heaven for it." "Why, Captain Keene, I thought just now you did not care whether you lived or died." "No more I did at that time, Cross; but when we are so wonderfully preserved, we cannot think but that we are preserved for better things; and as Providence has interfered, it points out to us that it is our duty to live." "Well, I'm glad to hear you say that, sir. There's all the troops coming back. What queer-looking chaps they are, with their long lances and long beards!" "Yes; they are Cossacks--Russian irregular cavalry." "Irregular enough I don't doubt; but they spitted the French men nicely. They look exactly what I thought the Pope of Rome was like."