Night had fallen before the
ships reached the boom. The lookout could no longer see and report
their movements. Intense was the suspense. Minutes that seemed hours
passed by. Then, in the distance, the flash of guns could be seen. The
sound of artillery came from afar to the ears of the expectant citizens.
But the hope which this excited went down when the shout of triumph rose
from the besiegers as the Mountjoy grounded. It was taken up and
repeated from rank to rank to the very walls of the city, and the hearts
of the besieged sank dismally. This cry surely meant failure. The
miserable people grew livid with fear. There was unutterable anguish in
their eyes, as they gazed with despair into one another's pallid faces.
A half-hour more passed. The suspense continued. Yet the shouts of
triumph had ceased. Did it mean repulse or victory? "Victory! victory!"
for now a spectral vision of sails could be seen, drawing near the town.
They grew nearer and plainer; dark hulls showed below them; the vessels
were coming! the town was saved!
Wild was the cry of glad greeting that went up from thousands of
throats, soul-inspiring the cheers that came, softened by distance, back
from the ships. It was ten o'clock at night.
Pages:
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340