CHAPTER XXXI
THE END OF DEFENSE
I HAD no time for thought—action called me. Yet her last unfinished sentence rang in my memory. Could it be that she cared also? that out of this strange association there had grown an awakening interest? Could she have meant that? Was that what she sought to say in those final words? God, I would have given much to know, yet the faith that it was so flamed up in my heart instantly, and seemed to blot all else out. For a single moment I stood there motionless, my feet on the lowered trap, dimly conscious of the uproar about me, yet scarcely able to realize the imminence of the peril. They were pouring volleys into the front door—the roaring of discharge ending in the sound of splintered wood, and sharp cries of pain. Carbines cracked in response, and Harwood's voice sounded continually through the hideous discord.
"Get back, men! get back! ay, beyond the partition, you fellows in front there! No, don't leave the windows; they'll charge presently, and there is no use firing those carbines now—the range is too
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