It had
two plain results, and no more: the crest of the high field, without,
had changed its contour next morning as though a monster had bitten it;
and when the day had burnt itself out in sullen darkness, there burst on
all sides an attack of prolonged and furious exasperation. The fusillade
now came not only from the landward sides, but from a long flotilla of
boats in the river; and although these vanished at dawn, the fire never
slackened, either from above the field, or from a distant wall, newly
spotted with loopholes, beyond the ashes of the go-down. On the night
following, the boats crept closer, and suddenly both gates resounded
with the blows of battering-rams. These and later assaults were beaten
off. By daylight, the nunnery walls were pitted as with small-pox; yet
the little company remained untouched, except for Teppich, whose shaven
head was trimmed still closer and redder by a bullet, and for Gilbert
Forrester, who showed--with the grave smile of a man when fates are
playful--two shots through his loose jacket.
He was the only man to smile; for the others, parched by days and
sweltered by nights of battle, questioned each other with hollow eyes
and sleepy voices.
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