Our men are halting, and forming up.

I suppose he means to charge the Austrians when they come up, but there are three to one against him.

He is lost." "There is hope yet, sire," Keith said, as he again turned his glass on Fergus.

"My aide-de-camp is going to charge the Austrian squadron." "So he is!" the king exclaimed, lowering his glass, for the distance was little more than half a mile from the spot where he stood.

"He must be mad." "It is possible he may do it, sire.