“Back, on your lives!” shouted Pomperant, in extremity of anguish.
A giddiness seized him, and, unable to offer any further resistance, he was dragged into the epaulment by Lurcy.
At this moment the explosion took place with a terrific sound, and a shock like that of an earthquake. From the noises that succeeded, it was evident that a large portion of the wall, under which the mine had been laid, was overthrown.
In another minute all these appalling sounds ceased, and a silence like that of death succeeded.
Lurcy and Pomperant, with the sappers, rushed out of the epaulment. But they could not proceed many paces. The torch held by one of the men flashed on a terrible scene, and revealed the work of destruction. The farther end of the passage beneath the moat was blocked up with huge stones and rubbish, and rents having been made in the sides, the water from the moat was pouring in, the place being already half flooded.
“I have lost her!” exclaimed Pomperant, in accents of despair. “They must all have perished in that terrible explosion. Why did you not let me extinguish the train?”
“Had you made the attempt, you would only have thrown away your own life,” rejoined Lurcy. “But come away. You can do no good here.”
“I will not go till I have ascertained what has become of her,” cried Pomperant.
“Give yourself no further trouble, monseigneur,” remarked the sapper who had fired the mine. “Not one of those brave young women can have escaped. They are all crushed beneath those stones.”
“I would I had perished with her!” ejaculated Pomperant. And he reeled back, half fainting, against the side of the gallery.