"Sir," replied Jack, nonchalantly, "I only did the duty dictated by common humanity; and I hope the little mid has dried his jacket by this time." "Do you know the name of him you saved?" "Not I--never thought of such a thing." "Well--that little middy was his Royal Highness Prince Edward, the second son of the king; and I have it in command from Lieutenant-General Bligh to compliment you, Corporal Charters, and to say that you shall have the _first_ pair of colours that become vacant in the force now under his orders." The nut-brown cheek of Charters flushed, as he replied in voice rendered husky by emotion-- "It is well, sir, and I thank the general. I have saved the lives of men ere now; but they were merely private soldiers, _not_ royal highnesses, so my humanity or bravery went for little." "Charters, this bitterness and pride are your ruin," said the aide-de-camp, who knew well the story of our comrade. "Not so; tell General Bligh that I am not ungrateful, and that I shall thank him from my soul, if, before I die, he replace upon my shoulders those epaulettes of which they should never have been deprived!" "He will, Charters, and I shall be one of the first to welcome you and to wet the new commission," replied the frank staff officer. "Captain Lindsay, you had better form the two troops in squadron, and make a dash at those advancing cavalry, as the ground is open here." Indeed, while this conversation had been proceeding, the French hussars and heavy dragoons, about one hundred and eighty in all, had debouched from some hedgerows upon a piece of open moorland, with a swallow-tailed banner of light blue silk flying in their centre. Charters pointed to it with his sword, and said to Kirkton-- "You see yonder standard, Tom? Well--I shall fulfil my vow of last night, or my horse shall go home with an empty saddle!" Quietly and orderly as if upon parade in Hyde Park, the two troops formed squadron; Captain Lindsay equalized them, appointed the troop leaders and the serrefiles; he then took post half a horse's length in front of the standard, which was borne by troop sergeant-major Duff, and which was of scarlet silk embroidered with the thistle and St. Andrew, the regimental motto, and the national one, _Nemo me impune lacessit_. I shall not attempt to describe the fury of the encounter that took place, as I was not present. It was long, desperate, and hand to hand. Charters unhorsed the cornet and captured the standard which belonged to the Languedoc dragoons, who made a desperate rally to recover it, and cut him off. For some minutes he and big Hob Elliot were fairly surrounded by the enemy, but Captain Lindsay made a gallant charge to save him, as he was a prime favourite with the corps. In that charge the captain perished, but the French were repulsed.*