“Yes, Smith,” he said grimly; “but who is to drive those two nails home?”
I didn’t answer him for a minute, I should think, for I was thinking over matters, about life, and about Lizzy, and now that Harry Lant was gone, it seemed to me that there might be a chance for me; but still duty was duty, and if men could not in such a desperate time as this risk something, what was the good of soldiers?
“I’ll drive ’em home, sir,” I says then quietly, “or they shall drive me home!”
He looked at me for an instant, and then nodded.
“I’ll get the men ready,” he says; “it’s our only chance; and with a bold dash we may do it. I’ll see to the armourer’s chest for hammers and spikes. I’ll spike one, Smith, and you the other; but, mind, if I fail, help me, as I will you, if you fail; and God help us! Keep a sharp look-out till I come back.”
He left the room, and I heard a little movement below, as of the men getting ready for the sally; and all the while I stood watching the crowd in front, which now began hurrahing and cheering; and there was a motion which shewed that the guns were being run in nearer, till they stopped about fifty yards from the gate.
“What makes him so long?” I thought, trembling with excitement; “another minute, perhaps, and the gate will be battered down, and that mob rushing in.”
Then I thought that we ought all who escaped from the sortie, in case of failure, to be ready to take to the rooms adjoining where I was, which would be our last hope; and then I almost dropped my piece, my mouth grew dry, and I seemed choked, for, with a loud howl, the crowd opened out, and I saw a sight that made my blood run cold—those two nine-pounders standing with a man by each breech, smoking linstock in hand; while bound, with their backs against the muzzles, and their white faces towards us, were Captain Dyer and Harry Lant!
One spark—one touch of the linstock on the breech—and those two brave fellows’ bodies would be blown to atoms; and, as I expected that every moment such would be the case, my knees knocked together; but the next moment I was down on those shaking knees, my piece made ready, and a good aim taken, so that I could have dropped one of the gunners before he was able to fire.
I hesitated for a moment before I made up my mind which to try and save, and the thought of Lizzy Green came in my mind, and I said to myself: “I love her too well to give her pain,” when, giving up Captain Dyer, I aimed at the gunner by poor Harry Lant.