Then you could see through the black steel-tipped line in a hundred frightful gaps, and the ground sparkled with bayonets and the air rang with the cries of the wounded.
A tremendous cheer from the brigade, and the colonel charged at the head of his column, out by Death's Alley.
The broken wall was melting away into the night.

The colonel wheeled his men to the right: one company, led by the impetuous young Captain Jullien, followed the flying enemy.
The other attack had been only too successful.

They shot the sentries, and bayoneted many of the soldiers in their tents: others escaped by running to the rear, and some into the next parallel.
Several, half dressed, snatched up their muskets, killed one Prussian, and fell riddled like sieves.
A gallant officer got a company together into the place of arms and formed in line.
Half the Prussian force went at them, the rest swept the trenches: the French company delivered a deadly volley, and the next moment clash the two forces crossed bayonets, and a silent deadly stabbing match was played: the final result of which was inevitable.

The Prussians were five to one.

The gallant officer and the poor fellows who did their duty so stoutly, had no thought left but to die hard, when suddenly a roaring cheer seemed to come from the rear rank of the enemy.