“Then it is true, Denzil?” she asked in faltering tones. “Don’t deceive me at such a time. Is there really no hope?”
It would have been worse than folly to speak false words of comfort now, and with an effort I answered:
“No; all hope is gone. You must know the worst, my darling! We have but a little while to live. Heaven has deserted us. Oh, God, that it should be my lot to tell you this!” She crept closer to me, hiding her face on my breast. For nearly a minute she was still, while confusion and clamor, Indian yells, and musketry fire reigned round us. I could feel the agitated heaving of her bosom, the throbbing of her heart. Then she looked up at me bravely, with a sublime expression in her tear-dimmed eyes that brought to my mind the Christian martyrs of old.
“God is love and mercy, dearest Denzil,” she said. “If it is His will that we die we must submit. We will find in heaven the happiness that is denied us on earth.”
“It is a cruel, cruel fate!” I cried fiercely. “I would suffer ten deaths to save you—”
“It is better thus,” she interrupted. “We shall not be separated! Promise me, Denzil, that you will not let the Indians take me alive!”
I tried to speak, but a sob choked my utterance. I nodded assent, and just then my name was called from the other end of the hall. I kissed Flora and led her forward, putting her in the care of Mrs. Menzies. The men were standing about in groups, some talking, some nervously loading guns, and others staring vacantly at the floor.
“We are considering what we had better do,” said Captain Rudstone, “and we want your opinion, Carew. If we stick to the house it means death for all of us by suffocation or by flames. If we sally out there is a possibility that one or more of us may break through and escape.”
“No chance of that,” Carteret answered bluntly. “The devils will be ready for us, and we shall be hemmed in and butchered to a man. I prefer to die fighting myself; but think of the women! Suffocation will be the easiest fate for them.”
I made no reply, for I did not know what to say—what alternative to choose. It was a horrible prospect either way, and I contemplated it with rage and despair, with such a whirl in my brain that I thought I should go mad. The musketry fire was dwindling a little, but the whooping and yelling of the exultant savages suddenly rose to a higher pitch, making such a din that the voices of my companions were quite drowned.