This frightful apparition was a poor forlorn horse,
studded with lights fastened to cords, that shook and flickered about in
so fearful a manner. In this plight he had been turned out of the gates,
the garrison looking on, with frightful shouts and yells.
The sentinels ran from their posts, crying out that the king's army was
coming. In an instant all was uproar and confusion, the trenches were
cleared, and happy was he that came foremost in the rout.
Rigby clasped on his sword-belt which he had doffed for the night.
Springing on his horse, he met some of the runaways, whom he forced
back, hoping by their means to stem the main torrent. But, lo! in the
very height of the panic, appeared another and more direful intruder--an
avenue of fire seemed to extend from the walls to their own trench. It
appeared as though the enemy had by some unaccountable means formed in a
double line from the fortress, illuminated rank and file as if by
magic--flinging their torches by one simultaneous and well-concerted
movement into the air with great order and regularity.
Had a legion from the puissant army of Beelzebub been approaching,
their terror could not have been greater.
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