They were executing the command with a dash and vigor that would have been creditable to veterans, when they were ordered to cross the ravine, and support the Eire Zouaves.

The movement was made, and Tom soon found himself in the thickest of the fight.

Shot and shell were flying in every direction, and the bullets hissed like hailstones around him.
In spite of all his preparations for this awful scene, his heart rose up into his throat.

His eyes were blinded by the volumes of rolling smoke, and his mind confused by the rapid succession of incidents that were transpiring around him.

The pictures he had painted were sunlight and golden compared with the dread reality.