Part 77 (2/2)

”There is something very peculiar going on. I believe they are going to give us artillery now.”

Berger started up.

”Did I not tell you?” he cried. ”The decisive hour has come. Up! up!

you brave men; all of you! One more merry dance with the weird fairies of life, and then to unbroken rest in the cool night of death. Up! up!”

At this call some of the men rose from their resting-places near the fire, seized their arms, and hastened with Berger to their posts.

Others remained where they were and laughed at the false alarm. But they also were quickly enough upon their feet when an explosion came which shook the houses to their foundations, and grape and canister came rattling against the barricade and the faces of the houses.

”Now they are in earnest,” said Oldenburg, turning to Oswald. But the place where Oswald had been standing was empty.

”He avoids me,” said Oldenburg, sadly, ”and yet my conscience is quiet.

I have no reproach to make to myself as far as he is concerned.”

He hastened to the barricade, where the captain's presence was more needed than ever.

The first gun, which had opened the dance, was now joined by three more, and the thunder came almost uninterruptedly, and with it the iron hail. There was no doubt they wanted to make a break in the barricade, and then charge once more with better result. Oldenburg, not wis.h.i.+ng to expose the lives of his men unnecessarily, had given orders that they should keep as much as possible under cover, and not return the fire of the enemy, but save every shot for the moment of the charge itself. He had also doubled the number of men with stones on the house-tops.

Finally he chose from among the men who had shown most bravery a select corps, which was to fall upon the attacking party and engage them till the others should have had time to seek shelter behind the barricades in the adjoining streets.

Oldenburg had just given his directions when battery opened a most terrific fire and then suddenly became silent.

One moment all was perfectly still.

Perfectly still, and then the iron clang of twenty drums beating the charge. And with every beat the column drew nearer, a living wall, apparently irresistible in its approach.

Not a sound on the barricade. Up on the roofs stand men and boys, with heavy stones in their hands; in the windows of the houses, and near the openings in the barricade, the marksmen are watching, with their rifles close to the eye.

And the drums beat and the living wall comes nearer. Already one can distinguish the handsome uniform of the Guards; one can see the beardless faces of the men, and the black-bearded countenance of the gigantic officer who leads the attack. And now the officer gives a command, drowned in the beating of the drums; and as he waves his bright sword the men cheer, and with three hurrahs they rush forward.

But before they reach the barricade twenty rifles are discharged, and hundreds of stones are hurled down from above upon the living wall, and it wavers and trembles like a huge wave in the ocean which dashes its foam-crested waters against a rocky coast.

Nevertheless it rolls on, and now it breaks against the barricade. The officer pulls out huge pieces. Nothing, it seems, can resist his gigantic strength. But suddenly a man in a worn-out velvet coat, who wields as his only weapon a rifle-barrel without the stock, leaps down and faces the officer. When the officer sees the man he starts back as if struck by lightning, and roars to his men: ”Halt! Halt!”

They halt.

The men of the barricade avail themselves of this pause and fire once more. The officer falls dead, face foremost; with him half a dozen men fall, more or less dangerously wounded. A panic seizes the troops. The officers try in vain to lead them to the attack.

The barricade is safe once more; they cheer again and again; they embrace each other with tears of joy in their eyes. But they have paid dearly for their victory. While part of the men repair the barricade, which is half destroyed, another part is busy with the dead and wounded. The man in the velvet coat brings up the corpse of a man, who has fought like a hero in the front rank, and who has fallen by his side, pierced with the enemy's bayonets.

Oldenburg comes up to help them.

”Is he dead?”

”Yes.”

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