"At daybreak to-morrow," quoth the colonel. "It gives us a chance. Now is the proper time to ask for volunteers, and to-night I'll lead a party to attempt to spike the guns."
Both Ralph and I expressed our intention of accompanying him, but to this he objected, saying that our place was within the walls of the castle. Upon calling for volunteers, not less than twenty showed their willingness to make the attempt, and of these Colonel Firestone selected six.
For the rest of the day we were unmolested, and making the most of this respite, we set about strengthening the battered walls and repairing the breach with a wall of rough masonry faced with earth and straw.
As night drew on, the men selected for the forlorn attempt were mustered. Each of these was provided with a hammer and a couple of steel spikes, and in addition they were armed with swords and pistols.
The colonel gave the word in a low tone, and in perfect silence handgrips were exchanged, and the little party filed out through the postern.
Directly they had vanished through the darkness, the rest of the garrison manned the walls, where, with matches ready to light, we waited in deadly silence the result of the hazardous enterprise.
We relied upon the guns being in the same position they had occupied during the day. Although well in the rear of the rebel lines, they commanded a clear front, so that, had the enemy neglected to post sentinels in the intervening gap, our men would doubtless be able to reach the object of their endeavours without hindrance.
Half an hour elapsed without any signs of the movements of our friends, though several of the watchers declared they heard the blows of the hammers as the spikes were driven in—a manifest impossibility, owing to the distance between the castle and the guns.
Suddenly the darkness was pierced by a bright flash, followed by a report of a musket.
Other flashes came in quick succession, and the next instant the whole of the rebel lines became a ring of spitting fire.