'Where are you going, Monsieur le General?' cried some of his soldiers, in astonishment. 'To meet the enemy,' he replied, through his clenched teeth. They continued to dissuade him, but in vain. Sword in hand he continued to advance, calmly and alone, till a passing shell struck him dead. General Montmarie, and many other brave officers, fell at the head of their men; and, on this day, was inaugurated that series of rapid disasters to France that never ended till the Prussian drums woke the echoes of the Arc de Triomphe at Paris. The troops were considerably broken as they fought their way up the hill, and some of the King's Grenadiers got mingled among the 95th. Carl missed Heinrich from his place on the left of the company. 'Heavens!' thought he, 'has he fallen?' Looking round, even at the risk of being struck by a bullet from behind, he saw him about fifty yards in the rear, in the grasp of a savage-looking and powerfully built Turco, whose left hand was on Heinrich's throat, while, with his unfixed bayonet, the socket of which he grasped dagger-fashion in his right, he was making vain efforts to stab and thrust--we say vain efforts, for, though Heinrich had lost his sword in the fray, he had firm possession of the Turco's right wrist. While the two were wrenching and swaying to and fro, the black eyes of the swarthy Turco flashing fire, and his teeth glistening white as he hissed and muttered curses through them, a second Turco, not far off, took aim at Heinrich with his chassepot, and fired, but missed. He threw open the breech of the weapon to insert another cartridge; but ere he could close it, Pierrepont, quick as thought, snatched a needle-gun from the nearest soldier, took steady aim at him, and fired. The ball pierced the left side of the Turco, who bounded three feet from the ground, made a kind of half-turn in the air, and then fell flat on his face motionless. When the smoke cleared away, Charlie saw his friend with a breathless and half-strangled expression hurrying towards him, having been freed from the Turco by the bayonet of a Westphalian. He had saved her brother; and from that gory field, his heart--his thoughts--flashed home to Ernestine. It was now two o'clock p.m.; by this time the French were in full and rapid retreat, followed by the Prussian flying artillery, as they fell back upon the line of Bitsch. The Geisberg was won, but the slaughter on both sides was terrible. The French fought nobly. Fourteen men of the 24th regiment were all that were left _alive_ of that corps at the close of the day; and even those refused to surrender, but kept fighting on at the point of the bayonet until the Prussians, not liking to kill them, rushed upon them in a body and threw them down by wrestling. On the corpse-encumbered Geisberg the glorious old valour of France was conspicuous as ever; but her troops were badly officered and badly led.