As if they had caught fire from it, a score of torches broke into flame on the eastward rocks, and in the sudden blaze, under the detonating fire of musketry, the men of Troy could be seen tumbling out of their boats and splashing ankle-deep to the shore.
It was a splendid, a gallant sight.

Each man, as he reached _terra firma_, dropped on one knee, fired deliberately, reloaded, and advanced a dozen paces.

Still from the boats behind fresh reinforcements splashed ashore and crowded into the firing-line: while from the eastward rock the vanguard of the Diehards kept up its deadly flanking fire, heedless of the torches that exposed them each and all at plain target-shot to the oncoming host.
Still, amid the pealing notes of the bugles, the Major waved his men forward.

Captain Pond, breaking loose from him and facing swiftly towards the Cove-head, with a flourish of his blade called upon his mainguard.
Under the volley that thereupon swept the beach, the invaders did indeed waver for a moment--so closely it resembled the real thing.
As the smoke lifted, however, by the murky glare of the torches they were seen to be less demoralised than infuriated.

And now, upon the volley's echo, a drum banged thrice, and from a boat just beyond the water's edge the Troy bandsmen crashed out with: "The Rout it is out for the Looes, For the Looes; Oh, the Rout it is out for the Looes!" "Forward! Forward, Troy!" "Steady, the Two Looes! Steady, the Diehards!" "Form up--form up, there, to the left! Hurray, boys! give 'em the bagginet!" "Death to Invader! Reload, men! Oh, for your lives, reload! Make ready, all! Prepare! Fire!" "Mr.Spettigew! Mr.Spettigew!" "Eh ?" Uncle Issy turned as William Oke plucked him by the sleeve.
"What's the matter now?
Reload, I tell'ee!" "I--I can't, Mr.Spettigew.