"Men," continued the Colonel as quietly as if talk ing to a Sunday school, "we're going to take those works with the bayonet. Keep perfectly quiet; reserve your breath for quick, hard work, and pay close attention to orders. We'll move in quick time to the edge of that slashing of timber; every man make his way through it as best he can, keeping as near his Captain as possible. As soon as through it he will run with all his might for the works, fire his gun into the rebels as he jumps the works, and then rely on his bayonet. No man must fire a shot until we are crossing the works, and then I want every shot to fetch a rebel." He waited a moment before giving the command to advance, for Co. Q, which had snaked the battery out of the mudhole in a hurry, was coming on a dead run in order to be on time for the charge. It snatched its guns from the stacks, and lined up like a long flash of blue light. The artillerymen had lashed their jaded horses into a feverish run, swept out into an open space, flung their guns "into battery," and opened with a vicious bang on the rebel works. So far not a head appeared above the breastworks; not a shot from the embrasures in the forts. "They're just laying low," whispered Si to Shorty, as they instinctively brought their shoulders together and summoned their energies for the swift advance. "They'll blaze out like the fires o' hell just as we git tangled up in that infernal timber-slashin'." "Well," muttered Shorty, "we'll know mighty soon now. In five minutes we'll either be in Heaven or bayoneting the rebels in that fort." "Battalion, forward march!" commanded the Colonel. The regiments to the right and left got the command at the same instant, and the long wave of blue rolled forward without a break or fault in its perfect alignment. A hundred yards were quickly passed, and still the rebel works were as silent as a country churchyard. The suspense was fearful. Men bent their heads as if in momentary expectation of being struck by a fearful blast. Another hundred yards. Still no bullet from the rifle-pits, no canister from the forts. Another hundred yards, and they had struck the entangling abatis, and were feverishly working their clothes loose from the sharp-pointed limbs. "Capt. McGillicuddy," excitedly shouted Si, "there's no men in them works. Didn't you see that flock o' blackbirds just settle down on that fort?" "That's true," said the Captain, after a quick glance. "Colonel, they've evacuated." A little to the left of the company Si saw a path through the abatis made by the rebels taking short cuts in and out of the camp. He and Shorty quickly broke their way to it, and ran in feverish haste to the works. They found a puncheon laid to cross the ditch, ran over it, and mounted the rifle-pit. There was not a man inside of the works. The last of the garrison could be seen on the other side of Elk River, setting fire to the bridge by which they had just crossed.