"Major Warrener, you will move up your troop, and fall in with the Guide
cavalry."

At a trot Warrener's Horse moved off toward the right. The guns on the
walls were now all at work, and our artillery at Hindoo Rao's were
answering them, and the shots from a light battery placed by the flagstaff
went singing away toward the right.

Warrener's Horse were now at the station assigned to them. The musketry
fire in the gardens and broken ground near Hindoo Rao's was very heavy,
and a large body of the enemy's cavalry was seen extending into the plain,
with the intention of pushing forward on the right of the Ridge.

"You will charge the enemy at once," an aid-de-camp said; and with a cheer
the Guides and Warrener's Horse dashed forward.

It was the moment they had longed for; and the fury with which they
charged was too much for the enemy, who, although enormously superior in
numbers, halted before they reached them, and fled toward the city, with
the British mixed with them, in a confused mass of fighting, struggling
men. The pursuit lasted almost to the walls of the city. Then the guns on
the wall opened a heavy fire, and the cavalry fell back as the balls
plunged in among them.

There were but two or three hurt, but among them was Lieutenant Quentin
Battye, a most gallant young officer, a mere lad, but a general favorite
alike with other officers and the men. Struck by a round shot in the body,
his case was hopeless from the first; he kept up his spirits to the last,
and said with a smile to an old school-friend who came in to bid him