ng the line of the fort. And I
could see the mortar shells go up and up, leaving a scorched trail
behind, curve in a great circle, and fall upon the little garrison.
Mister Moultrie became a real person to me then, a vivid picture in my
boyish mind--a hero beyond all other heroes.

As the sun got up in the heavens and the wind fell, the cupola became a
bake-oven. But I scarcely felt the heat. My whole soul was out in the
bay, pent up with the men in the fort. How long could they hold out?
Why were they not all killed by the shot that fell like hail among them?
Yet puff after puff sprang from their guns, and the sound of it was like
a storm coming nearer in the heat. But at noon it seemed to me as though
some of the ships were sailing. It was true. Slowly they drew away from
the others, and presently I thought they had stopped again. Surely two of
them were stuck together, then three were fast on a shoal. Boats, like
black bugs in the water, came and went between them and the others.
After a long time the two that were together got apart and away. But the
third stayed there, immovable, helpless.

Throughout the afternoon the fight, kept on, the little black boats
coming and going. I saw a mast totter and fall on one of the ships. I
saw the flag shot away from the fort, and reappear again. But now the
puffs came from her walls slowly and more slowly, so that my heart sank
with the setting sun. And presently it grew too dark to see aught save
the red flashes. Slowly, reluctantly, the noise died down until at last
a great silence reigned, broken only now and again by voices in the
streets below me. It was not until then that I realized that I had been
all day without food--that I was alone in the dark of a great house.

I had never known fear in the woods at night. But now I trembled as I
felt my way down the ladder, and groped and stumbled through the black
attic for the stairs. Every noise I made seemed louder an hundred fold
than the battle had been, and when I barked my shins, the pain was
sharper than a knife. Below, on the big stairway, the echo of my
footsteps sounded again from the empty rooms, so that I was taken with a
panic and fled downward, sliding and falling, until I reached the hall.
Frantically as I tried, I could not unfasten the bolts on the front door.
And so, running into the drawing-room, I pried open the window, and sat
me down in the embrasure to think, and to try to quiet the thumpings of
my heart