"Oi do, sorr; Oi've made the rounds. There's one man shot in the kitchen, but nobody got hurted up stairs."
"And our men?" I asked eagerly. "From those upper windows did you see any sign of troops down in the ravine?"
He shook his head.
"Not a domn thing, sorr."
I looked into the faces clustered around us--blackened, savage faces, still marked by the fierce animalism of battle--feeling to the full the desperation of our position.
"Well, lads," I said soberly, "there is no use hiding the truth from you. I know you'll fight to the end, and that won't be long coming, unless help gets here. We can never repulse another assault; we've got eight men killed, and more than that wounded now--the next time we'll all go. What do you say--shall we hold on, hoping?"
"Oi'm fer doin' it, sorr," broke in Mahoney, "an' Oi'm spakin' fer ivery Irishmon in H troop."
"And you, Miles?"
"I'm not so bloomin' fond of a fight, Lieutenant," he said, scratching his head, "but I like to stay fighting after I once get started. Ain't that about the size of it, boys?"
Several heads nodded, and one fellow growled,