The Seed of Empire by Fred M. White

The fine rapture of the moment was not dimmed by any thought of the peril that might--nay, would--follow on the morrow. It was enough to that little knot of Englishmen to know that they had set out on a breathless, desperate enterprise, and that the wild adventure had been crowned with success. And yet there was not one of them blind to the fact that it could only be for the time being. They knew that they had been overwhelmed by the great flood of the German invasion, and that the waters of that mighty river had swept by them on either side. There might be a possible chance to squeeze back, but every hour rendered retreat more and more difficult. Still, they were doing fine work, as their fathers had done on many a stricken field before them, and every moment gained was so much to their credit.

But they were not thinking of that, nor caring for the future. They cut the bonds of the gunners, who literally fell upon their necks and blessed them. A big sergeant sat on the grass and rubbed his swollen ankles vindictively.