vit] THE TWO ETONIANS. 339

II.

The roll of the cannon was deafening the ears alike
of the besieged and the besiegers of Sebastopol. The
incessant roar, louder than the heaviest thunder-storm,
had continued for days together, and the mighty
armaments of England and France still darkly brooded
over the Russian fortress, whilst anxious hearts at
home beat fast and sad for warrior sons and brothers
in that distant camp, whose place in the old home
circle would, alas! be filled no more.

It was autumn again, but not such an autumn day
as that which I have described as the day of the Eton
Steeple-chase. A dark, heavy morning, with thick
mists rolling up the side of the hill, and covering as
with a shroud the camp of the allies. There had been
heavy rain for days past, and the whole place was ina
state of damp discomfort, unfavourable alike to health
and to military operations. But the man who feels the
grip of a foeman upon his neck has neither time nor
inclination to wait for favourable conditions before try-
ing to shake himself free. And Russia, with the enemy
overhanging her great fortress and threatening the life
of her empire with a death-stroke, had good reason
for a supreme effort to rid herself once for all of the
oppression.

On that night, then, trusting that vigilance might
have relaxed in the allied camp, and the continuous bad
weather might have lessened the discipline and dulled
the martial ardour of her foes, Russia massed her
forces and collected her artillery for one great attempt,
the success of which would have been the most glori-

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