rly wished for by the
two commanders, had been deferred from day to day. But Pepperell was not
idle, and he was unable to understand despair. To him a repulse was the
starting point of a new attempt. But now, with half his camp in
hospital, with French and Indians threatening him in the rear, and the
great battlements of Louisburg still formidable, he dared not risk an
assault that, if unsuccessful, would further dispirit the army, and
might be fatal. He had sent to Governor Shirley for ammunition and
re-inforcements, and he had still the resource of sounding away with all
his guns, for which, by borrowing, he could find powder and balls. He
availed himself of this privilege with a persistence that after the city
had surrendered he was able to see had not been useless.

The West gate had long since been demolished, the citadel more than once
injured by shot, and as to the city itself, streets of it were in ruin.
But Island Battery still held its own and kept the fleet away from the
city, the soldiers sickened, and the French governor held out. The
incessant cannonade went on until sometimes the men wondered how it
would seem not to hear bursting shells. There had been sorties and
repulses, and though not much fighting, enough to prove the temper of
the men. One day Elizabeth, looking across at a fascine battery where
the enemy's fire was hottest in return, discovered Archdale standing in
the most exposed position, watching and giving orders with an
imperturbable face.

So the siege went on, with brave resistance on one side, and on the
other with that invincible determination that makes its way through
greater obstacles than stone walls. The weather was magnificent in spite
of the fogs at sea that sometimes made it impossible to go from shore to
ship. Edmonson lay tossing on his bed in the hospital. He had been badly
wounded in the attack, and his feverish mind retarded his recovery. As
had been said, he had learned of Katie Archdale's engagement, not
through Lord Bulchester, for that was the last thing that the nobleman
would have told him, but through a correspondent in Boston to whom he
had made it worth while to keep him informed of his lordship's
movements.

Edmonson's wound was painful, and his compensation did not come. Nancy,
not Elizabeth, was his nurse. Occasionally the latter spent half an hour
beside him when her maid was resting or was busy with others, but then,
although she ministered to his physical c