left wing from its centre and right, and at this precise moment the opportunity had come to beat his army in detail. Pakenham's 3rd Division was seated about our general. He had been lunching with its officers, Pakenham being his own brother-in-law. Instantly he gave this gallant leader orders, and at once the men of the 3rd Division were on their feet. Forward they charged against the left wing on the slope of the Sister Arapiles. Batteries thundered against them; muskets sent a stinging hail of bullets against the face of the charging division; while cavalry emerged from a fold in the ground and charged madly for the advancing British. But none could stay that gallant division. The men swept cavalry aside. They laughed at bullets and cannon shot. Leaving a thick trail of killed and wounded, they pressed the charge home, came to handgrips with the enemy, and then attacked them with the bayonet. "Let them loose!" cried Pakenham; and at the command the Connaught Rangers, ever a fine fighting corps, was sent into the midst of the thick masses of Marmont's left wing. "Magnificent but dreadful!" cried Tom, a witness from the plain of the whole scene. "Look; our fellows are crumpling the enemy's left wing up! Our colours are right alongside theirs, with the men fighting all round. It's a grand movement!" "The Portuguese brigade will fall in!" The command rang out over that portion of the ground where Tom and his men were stationed, and at once the men were on their feet. "Dress up there on the right. Back in the centre. Nicely does it, men! Ready and correct, sir." Jack Barwood, a grin of excitement on his face, rode up to Tom and reported the composite regiment to be ready. "March!" The brigade was in motion. Extending by battalions to left and right, its face was soon far wider than it had been. Pack led them direct to that Arapile height still held by Marmont, and known as Hermanito. Guns blazed and thundered at the Portuguese. Shot plunged through the ranks, sweeping men by half-dozens out of existence. Musket bullets began to sizzle and whip about the ears of the brigade, and fell even amongst the reserve marching some four hundred yards in rear. Tom's men began to fall by the way. Was there a sign of flinching? "Good plucked 'uns, to the backbone," muttered Jack, at Tom's side now, his face eager and tense. "Our boys will do well, sir. What are the orders?" An aide-de-camp had just galloped round, and had shouted instructions to our hero. "We're to charge up behind the men and support any part where the enemy are pressing," he said shortly. "I'm going to move off to the side a little; as we are we get all the shots and balls which miss the brigade in advance, and that isn't business. To the left there are folds in the ground which will give us shelter. Look away up there at Pakenham's 3rd Division."