Their terrible plight spurred them on to renewed efforts to break down the heavy door. The iron bolts were bent under their frenzied onslaughts, and the stifling smoke became thicker.
The ominous sounds of bursting shell grew louder and more frequent.
“They are shelling this very building,” exclaimed O’Neil, as he gathered himself for a spring at the resisting oak.
The two lads were almost in a panic. The situation seemed indeed hopeless. The crackling of the approaching fire was very near; so close that the air of the cell was becoming too hot to breathe.
Then an explosion, that seemed to the anxious prisoners as if the building itself had been destroyed, sent them reeling to the farthest limits of their narrow prison. They clutched the hot wall for support. The mingled smoke of powder and burning wood was so thick that they could see but a few feet. Phil felt a sharp pain and glanced down with horror to see blood flowing down his leg. He knew he had been wounded; he did not know how seriously.
He peered through the thick smoke for his companions. Sydney was near him, his clothes torn, showing the effects of the explosion. O’Neil was not visible. Phil groped through the suffocating smoke toward the door. He heard a crash of splintered wood accompanied by a glad cry from the sailor, and then the cell was lit up by a red glow of fire through the hole made by the boatswain’s mate in the oaken door. O’Neil stood, peering through the breach; the explosion of the shell had started, and he had, with his powerful hands, enlarged it. His glance was calm, but the sight, to Phil, was calculated to unnerve the stoutest heart. The hall outside was a veritable furnace, and it was their only road to safety. They were surely lost. How could they pass through this scorching heat alive?
“Come, it’s our only chance,” cried O’Neil. “It’s sure death here. The building may fall at any minute.”
THE THREE PRISONERS RUSHED
THROUGH THE FLAMES
Singly the Americans crawled from the comparative cool of their cell to the hall, through the breach in the door. The door of the building had been left open by the retreating guards, and showed white through the red glare of the flames.