Had Elizabeth noticed them enter the boat together?  He had thought of saying good-by, for his volunteering was no sudden resolve, but had been his determination from the first.  But if he died, what real difference would that make to her?  And if he came back, the leave taking would seem an absurdity.  He seemed still to see the outline of her slender figure, as with her shawl wrapped about her like a mantle she had stood bare-headed in the cold May evening.

Had he dreamed that Edmonson had learned of Katie’s desertion, and was full of rage at every word of courtesy or interest that he spoke to Elizabeth, he would have felt his chance of life still less.

“Can’t you hitch along, you fellow next me?” cried Edmonson.  “I’m so cramped here I can’t move a muscle, and I suspect we shall want them all in good order pretty soon.  We are coming up to the old walls.  Swift and steady, boys.  Every man be ready with his muskets.”

As he spoke, he took up his own weapon and examined it in the dimness.  Then, still holding it in his right hand, he laid that arm along the edge of the boat as if to relieve it from the cramped position he had complained of.  Archdale saw that the muzzle was pointed directly at him and that the hand which held it in apparent carelessness was working almost imperceptibly towards the trigger.  That would not be touched quite yet, however, a shot now would alarm the garrison and be inexcusable.  The accident would happen in the excitement of landing.  Archdale’s left hand that he with as great indifference as Edmonson’s laid upon the boat’s edge was steady.  He leaned forward a little to be out of range, and they went on in silence.

The clouds grew denser, the waves swelled more and more at the violence of the wind, and the storm, nearer every minute, seemed about to unite with the fiery storm that awaited the devoted band.

“Look,” said Archdale suddenly, “I believe they have discovered us.”  He raised his left hand as he spoke, and pointed to the Battery.  Lights were glancing there, and something had given it an air of ponderous observation, as if eyes were looking through the walls and movements going on behind them.  All the men scanned the battery earnestly except the speaker whose eyes were watchfully turned upon his neighbor, and who for reward saw Edmonson’s fingers covertly placing themselves on the trigger, while his face was still toward the fortifications.

“Yes, it’s all up with us,” cried the latter, “we are discovered,” In the movement of speech he was turning to Archdale, preparatory to dropping measuring eyes upon the musket, when the latter called out:—­

“See! they are going to fire.”  And with the words he dropped his left arm with a swift and accidental sweep by which his hand hitting forcibly against Edmonson’s which was unprepared, struck it off the boat into the water.  The pistol sent its ball spinning into the sea, running along Archdale’s sleeve as it passed.  The pistol itself lay under the water for the instant that Edmonson’s hand rested there.  The flintlock was wet, the weapon was useless.