Their two tall ranks made a wall before us, shutting out all view of the lights in the valley.

The short or supernumerary line of non-commissioned officers on our right stood motionless as a row of statues.
Suddenly a rocket shot up from below, arched its trail of light, and exploded: and on the instant the whole valley answered and exploded below us.

Between the detonations a cheer rang up the hillside and was drowned in the noise of musketry, as under a crackle of laughter.
Forgetting discipline, I crawled forward three paces and tried to peer between the legs of the rank in front, but was hauled back by the ear and soundly cursed.

The musketry crackled on without intermission.

Away in Ciudad Rodrigo the walls seemed to open and vomit fireworks, shell after shell curving up and dropping into the valley.
"Glory be!" cried someone.