This last assault had been more severe than the others.  The Germans had shown even greater tenacity and courage than before.  In vain had their officers sought to hold them to the attack.  Once, twice, thrice had the human sea surged against the farmhouse, only to be thrown back; so at last the Germans had withdrawn.

Dead and wounded men strewed the floor.  There were still some who had not been touched by the bullets of the foe, but the majority of the defenders of the top floor lay prone.

Hal shook his head sadly.

“Don’t believe we can withstand another such charge,” he said aloud.

“How long yet, sir?” asked the grizzled old veteran, Francois, who, though he had kept his place at the window through the last attack, had escaped the German bullets.

Again Hal gazed closely at his watch.

“Twelve minutes to go,” he said quietly.

The face of Francois brightened.

“Then we are all right, sir,” he said.  “They will hardly attack again in that time, sir.”

Hal shook his head.

“They are likely to attack at any moment,” he replied slowly.  “Besides, if we do succeed in beating them off once more, there is nothing to assure us that we will be relieved then.”

“Nothing sir,” returned Francois, “except Captain Leroux’s word that we have only to hold this house two hours, sir.”

“True,” said Hal, brightening visibly.  “I shouldn’t have spoken as I did.  We must trust to the others, and if they fail, why, we’ll know it is not their fault.”

“Right, sir,” said Francois.  “If they fail, it will not be their fault.”

He returned to his place at the window.

On the floor below Captain Leroux also had taken account of his casualties.  Merely a handful of men remained unwounded.  Some of the men who had felt the effects of the German fire were still in condition to continue the fight should their services be necessary, but their number was few.

The captain shook his head dubiously as he glanced at his watch.

“Ten minutes,” he muttered.  “Well, we’ll hold it that long, but afterwards I can’t be held accountable, there will be none of us left.”

In the basement Chester and his five men still were unmarked.  Though they had stood at the small windows and fired at whatever German forms came within view, they had had little work to do, the men were beginning to murmur among themselves.

“We’re not needed down here,” said one.  “We should be upstairs where the fighting is being done.  No Germans will seek to come in here.”

“That’s right,” said another, “we might do some good above.  Here we are doing nothing at all.  Why, we have hardly seen a German.  I don’t believe any of the enemy have spotted this opening yet, either.”

“Nor I; wish they had let me stay upstairs.”

“What’s all this?” demanded Chester, suddenly.  “You men have been in the ranks long enough to know better than to question your officers’ orders.  You have been posted here and here you shall remain until I get orders to the contrary.”