AT THE FIREPLACE
If Dunn was in command without I did not anticipate anything in the nature of a reckless attack. Nothing I had yet seen of Calvert Dunn had impressed me with either his courage or his capacity; and the almost total cessation of firing told of weakness either in numbers or command. It seemed to me an energetic leadership would have stormed the house before we could have arranged for its defence. I drew my breath quickly, suddenly possessed by a new fear. What about Big Donald? What about the secret passage? If he had escaped, got safe away, it would put a new face on everything. There would be no question as to the fierceness of the fighting if he commanded yonder. He was a different stamp of man from the Staff Lieutenant. What would he do first? Try a flank movement, endeavoring to take us in the rear, by means of the secret passage? The silence without, the sudden cessation of open attack in front, immediately became ominous, as this thought occurred to me. Here was the real danger, the important point for defence. But where could I seek? My only scrap of knowledge was that Donald had entered by way of the second story, and he had departed up the stairs. The entrance, then, must be above. There was a light still burning at the head of the circular staircase, but I could distinguish no sound, no indication of movement. Yet a moment of delay might cost us dear.
"O'Brien!"
He was wrapping a strip of cloth tightly about a wounded arm, but he stopped, glancing back at me across his shoulder.
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