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It was Prince Andrew. The first thing he saw on riding up to the

space where Tushin's guns were stationed was an unharnessed horse

with a broken leg, that lay screaming piteously beside the

harnessed horses. Blood was gushing from its leg as from a

spring. Among the limbers lay several dead men. One ball after

another passed over as he approached and he felt a nervous

shudder run down his spine. But the mere thought of being afraid

roused him again. "I cannot be afraid," thought he, and

dismounted slowly among the guns. He delivered the order and did

not leave the battery. He decided to have the guns removed from

their positions and withdrawn in his presence. Together with

Tushin, stepping across the bodies and under a terrible fire from

the French, he attended to the removal of the guns.

"A staff officer was here a minute ago, but skipped off," said an

artilleryman to Prince Andrew. "Not like your honor!"