And this time the Germans seemed to be advancing in even greater numbers than before.
"Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!" came the spatter of German bullets against the side of the house; and occasionally a bullet struck home and left no sound, unless it was the sound of a man toppling over backwards to the floor, or a man as he clapped his hand to his head. The rifle bombardment was having its effect.
The sharp crack of French rifles answered the challenge of the Germans, though, because of the fact that the ranks of the defenders had been sadly depleted, their weapons spoke not so often. But when they did speak, men fell; for, at this crucial stage of the battle, they were making every shot count.
But this time, it seemed, the Germans were not to be denied. Men as well as officers understood the slowness of the French fire. The Germans were flushed with the spirit of victory, despite the fact that the field on all sides of the farmhouse was covered with their own dead and dying. The German soldiers realized, as did their officers, that the end of the courageous defense was near. Another effort and the farmhouse would be theirs.
For some reason, in spite of the fact that the German troops appeared to be making fair progress, their advance was suddenly stayed. At some distance they halted and continued to pepper the house with rifle bullets, doing little damage at that distance.
Horses dashed suddenly into view, dragging behind them a rapid-fire gun.
Hal guessed the answer.
"That's to mow us down when we try to run," he told himself. "Well—"
He broke off and shrugged his shoulders.
Now the Germans came on again, the rapid-fire gun covering their advance. A moment later the side of the farmhouse resembled a sieve, it was so full of holes. For a man to stick his head out the window meant instant death.