So the long, long day of anxiety, thirst, and agony passed away, and sunset came on. Charlie watched it fading on the distant woods and green slopes of those lovely Lorraine valleys, till the mellowing haze of twilight blurred all the landscape into gloom, and the silvery moon and the evening star came forth in their beauty to light up the carnage of the past day. Neither the doctor nor the hospital attendant of his company had forgotten poor Charlie; but strange to say, when they came to look for him with a party about midnight, no trace could be found of him save a pool of blood on the grass where he had lain. So the Countess, perhaps, had her wicked wish fulfilled at last, and fate had removed 'the intruder,' as she named him, for ever from the path of Baron Grünthal! CHAPTER XVIII. IN THE ENEMY'S HANDS. We must now devote a short chapter to the fate of young Frankenburg. Ignorant that his friend Pierrepont had fallen--and a knowledge thereof would have served the latter but little--Heinrich, in his present capacity of adjutant, had to keep at his post and go on with the regiment, which, like the others, carried all before it. The French, aware of the vital importance of keeping possession of a hill on their right, as soon as their troops began to fall back before those battalions sent forward by General Steinmetz, threw up some earthen works, in rear of which their 62nd regiment of the line lay down, while several batteries of artillery fired over their heads, raining grape and shell upon the fast-advancing Prussians. For three hours the fighting was desperate there--the slaughter on both sides woeful! Again the French fell back, and the Prussians brought up battery after battery of Krupp guns to the summit of the abandoned height, the gunners using their whips and spurs, the officers brandishing their swords and shouting, 'Vorwarts! vorwarts!' with their horses at a gallop. In the ardour of the pursuit, or in terror of the dreadful sounds which shook the air, the horse ridden by Heinrich, having got the bit of the bridle firmly wedged between his teeth for a time, darted with his rider to the front at racing speed, and fairly carried him through the line of the retreating French! Shot after shot was fired after him, but he escaped them all, and ere long found himself in a village, the main street of which was crowded by Francs-Tireurs, who seemed to have expended all their ammunition, as they pursued him simply with fixed bayonets, yells, and ferocious maledictions; for, as the Prussians gave no quarter to this species of volunteer force, they were not disposed to give any in return, so Heinrich began to give himself up for lost.