d the lieutenant. "We can hold the first
floor for awhile yet." But as he was making for the ladder a bullet
struck him in the groin and he fell. "Too late, doggone it!"

Weiss and Laurent, aided by the remaining soldiers, carried him below,
notwithstanding his vehement protests; he told them not to waste their
time on him, his time had come; he might as well die upstairs as down.
He was still able to be of service to them, however, when they had laid
him on a bed in a room of the first floor, by advising them what was
best to do.

"Fire into the mass," he said; "don't stop to take aim. They are too
cowardly to risk an advance unless they see your fire begin to slacken."

And so the siege of the little house went on as if it was to last for
eternity. Twenty times it seemed as if it must be swept away bodily by
the storm of iron that beat upon it, and each time, as the smoke drifted
away, it was seen amid the sulphurous blasts, torn, pierced, mangled,
but erect and menacing, spitting fire and lead with undiminished venom
from each one of its orifices. The assailants, furious that they should
be detained for such length of time and lose so many men before such a
hovel, yelled and fired wildly in the distance, but had not courage to
attempt to carry the lower floor by a rush.

"Look out!" shouted the corporal, "there is a shutter about to fall!"

The concentrated fire had torn one of the inside blinds from its hinges,
but Weiss darted forward and pushed a wardrobe before the window, and
Laurent was enabled to continue his operations under cover. One of the
soldiers was lying at his feet with his jaw broken, losing blood freely.
Another received a bullet in his chest, and dragged himself over to
the wall, where he lay gasping in protracted agony, while convulsive
movements shook his frame at intervals. They were but eight, now, all
told, not counting the lieutenant, who, too weak to speak, his back
supported by the headboard of the bed, continued to give his directions
by signs. As had been the case with the attic, the three rooms of the
first floor were beginning to be untenable, for the mangled mattresses
no longer afforded protection against the missiles; at every instant the
plaster fell in sheets from the walls and ceiling, and the furniture was
in process of demolition: the sides of the wardrobe yawned as if they
had been cloven by an ax. And worse still, the ammunition was nearly
exhausted.

"It's too bad!" gru