She looked challengingly at the girls.
“No,” said Kitty soberly. “We wouldn’t want that. But what will we do, Gran?”
“Can’t tell for certain. But the way I see it, we keep a victualling house, and when there’s a lull in the fight, if a fight there be, the men will want food and drink. We’ll be here to provide it for them. All we have to do is the thing we do every day—”
A low boom like thunder, and yet sharper and more explosive than thunder, rolled and echoed in the direction of Morton’s Point. A moment later the windows rattled and the tavern shook.
Gran covered her ears and closed her eyes. “Merciful heavens, it’s begun! I’ll have to eat my fine words now! Under the table, Kitty, Sally Rose!”
In a moment they were huddled together on the floor, with the spreading trestles round them and the stout oak planks above. The blast was followed by a silence, and in the silence they heard a derisive shouting from the crest of Breed’s Hill.
“Sounds like the lads up there had suffered no harm from it,” murmured Gran, her voice a little steadier now. “That was a cannon shot, I think; most likely from one of their ships. I really doubt they’ll come ashore. Perhaps it would be safe—”
The cannon boomed again. Now another cannon spoke out, a little to the left. Then another. There were no silences any more, only the steady booming, and with every fourth or fifth boom, the tavern shook. One after another the windowpanes began to shatter. Once they heard a great crash in the street.
They did not speak to each other, for no human voice could penetrate the din. Kitty watched a streak of sunlight slowly widen and move across the floor. It told her that time was passing, and that this was a clear, bright day.
After awhile a lull did come, and the cannonading died out into silence. The silence was broken by a heavy knocking on the street door.