"'Tis sure death to venture there," cried the colonel; "besides, you are next in charge here. I cannot let you go."
"Let me go!" cried McCullough.
"Nay, you've done enough, and with your wounded arm you could not carry it. Besides, we need you."
"Let me!"
"I'll go," cried one and another, as the old colonel looked about him in an agony of indecision.
"We need you all; I can't spare a man," he muttered, hoarsely. "I don't see how we can hold the walls against another assault, as it is, with but a dozen able men here. Was ever man in such a position?"
"I will go, colonel," cried a clear voice from the women about the group of men.
"Elizabeth!" exclaimed her brother.
"Mistress Zane!" interrupted McCullough; "nay, you shall not. 'Tis no woman's work! I——"
"Silence, sir!" interrupted the colonel. "Who commands this garrison? 'Tis not woman's work, indeed; but we can spare no men. I cannot risk a single rifle. The maid shall go, and God bless her! If she falls, why, she but anticipates the fate of the rest of us."