A great cloud of smoke rose over the clearing and the forest, but through it the attacking army always advanced, a hedge of bayonets leading.
Robert saw everything clearly.

His heart sank for a moment, and then leaped up again.

Many of his own had fallen, but a great red curve was advancing.

It was the British regulars, the best troops in the charge that Europe could furnish, and they would surely carry the wooden wall.

As far as he could see, in front and to left and right, their bayonets flashed in the sun, and a cry of admiration sprang to his lips.