"Conrad's and mine," said Lambert with determined voice, "and no one else. Away, the rest of you, to your posts. You, Richard and Fritz, guard the door. Here are the two axes; and now, in God's name--"
The beams which bar the door are taken away so as to uncover a strong plank, fitting closely into the opening and against which the blows from without are directed, the door having been shattered. The last beam is drawn away; the plank falls; the breach desired by the besiegers is made, and out of the breach rush Lambert and Conrad side by side, old Christian Ditmar swinging aloft an ax with his nervous arm and crying: "Here! Germany forever!"
It is the first word that has to-day fallen from his lips, and it is his last for to-day and forever. Pierced at once with three bullets, cut and crushed by a dozen knife cuts and ax-blows he falls, but his big-hearted purpose is attained. He broke the first onset of the attacking party. He made a way for the two young men behind him. They rushed into this passage-way. Nothing can withstand Conrad's giant strength. His blows fall like hail. He rages among the crowd like a jaguar among sheep. Yes, it is a jaguar that has come among them--the great jaguar, as they call him at the lake, who had already torn so many of the tribe of Onondagas. They are willing to fight with the devil himself, but cannot bear to look at the flaming eyes of the great jaguar. They rush away toward the wall, over the wall, into the ditch, followed by Conrad. Lambert, who had already pulled apart the burning pile of wood, called after him that he should go no farther but come back, for the others, who had seen the shameful flight of their comrades, now directed their fire at the two. Bullet after bullet strikes the wall near Lambert. It is a wonder that he is yet uninjured; yes, that he is alive. But he does not think of himself. He only thinks of his lion-hearted brother. He rushes toward the raging one, who is fighting near the wall with three Indians, the last within the enclosure. They shall not get over it again. He seizes one, whirls him on high and dashes him against the wall where the unlucky fellow lies with a broken neck. The two others improve the moment and climb over the wall. One of them, before sliding down into the ditch, discharges his gun.
"Come in, for God's sake, Conrad!" called Lambert. He seizes Conrad by the hand and drags him away. They had reached the door when Conrad staggered like a drunken man, Lambert caught him about the body.
"It is nothing, dear brother," said Conrad and straightened himself up. But in the door he fell down. A stream of blood gushed from his mouth and moistened the door-sill which he had sworn never again to cross without the shedding of his blood.
The door is again barred more strongly than before.
The fire that Lambert had pulled apart wastes away powerless at the base of the house. The house is saved; but how long? The little company that guards it is poorer by two fighting men. The rest, exhausted by their frightful labor, are more dead than alive. The ammunition is used up to within a few charges, and the sun pours its last red rays over the lonely battle-field in the midst of the surrounding forest. In a few minutes it will go down. Night--the last night--will come on.
"Your brother is dead," said the minister to Lambert.
"He has gone before us," said Lambert. "Stay near me, Catherine."
The minister and Catherine had been occupied below with Conrad. The minister was skilled in the healing art, but here his skill could accomplish nothing. Conrad had opened his beautiful blue eyes, with a bewildered look, but once. They for a moment became bright and clear, as he saw Catherine's face through the mist of death. Then he lay still with closed eyes. There was deep peace in the yet wild and battle-angered face. He breathed but once again. Then his head sunk to one side as if he were now sleeping quietly. The sun sinks behind the forest, spreading its blood-red evening-light over those on the gallery.