Nevertheless, the odor
of blood attracted such countless swarms of flies that the ground
was black with them, and they pervaded the house in legions.
The number of the defenders decreased daily. Six only were able now
to carry arms. Mr. Hunter, Captain Rintoul, and Richards had died
of fever. Farquharson had been killed by a cannon ball; two civilians
had been badly wounded; several of the children had succumbed; Amy
Hunter had been killed by a shell that passed through the sandbag
protection of the grating that gave light to the room in the basement
used as a sick ward. The other ladies were all utterly worn out
with exhaustion, sleeplessness, and anxiety. Still there had been
no word spoken of surrender. Had the men been alone they would have
sallied out and died fighting, but this would have left the women
at the mercy of the assailants.
The work at the gallery had been discontinued for some time. It had
been carried upwards until a number of roots in the earth showed
that they were near the surface, and, as they believed, under a
clump of bushes growing a hundred and fifty yards beyond the walls;
but of late there had been no talk of using this. Flight, which
even at first had seemed almost hopeless, was wholly beyond them
in their present weakened condition.
On the last of these six days Major Hannay was severely wounded.
At night the enemy's fire relaxed a little, and the ladies took
advantage of it to go up onto the terrace for air, while the men
gathered for a council round the Major's bed.
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