The shock flung the Major forward over the bows; and on all fours, with a splash--like Julius Caesar--he saluted the soil he came to conquer.
But in an instant he stood erect again, waving his blade.
"Forward! Forward, Troy!" "I beg your pardon, Hymen," interrupted Captain Pond, quietly but seriously, stepping forth from the darkness.

"Yes, yes; that's understood--but see here now--" "Back, or you are my prisoner!" The Major had scrambled to his feet, and stood waving his sword.
"Hymen!" Captain Pond ran past the Major's guard and caught him by the elbow.
"Hands off, I say! Forward, Troy!" The Major struggled to disengage his sword-arm.
"Hymen, don't be a fool! As a friend now--though you _might_ have taken me into your confidence--" "Unhand me, Pond! Though you are doing your best to spoil the whole business--" "Listen to me, I say.

The Dragoons--" But Captain Pond shouted in vain.

Bugle after bugle drowned his voice, rending the darkness.

From the rocks to the eastward voices answered them, challenging wildly.
"Death to the invader!" With a _whoo-sh_ a rocket leapt into the air and burst, flooding the beach with light, showing up every furze bush, every stone wall, every sheep-track, on the surrounding cliffs.