Now followed several dreary days, when hope had sunk again to its
lowest ebb, and all his worst apprehensions revived. It was like a
living death; he was a close prisoner, and never a word reached him
that any of his friends were concerning themselves with his miserable
fate.
Again there came a glimpse of hope. Surely there was good cause: in
the renewal of the bombardment, which, after an interval of a few
days, revived with yet fiercer intention and unwavering persistence.
Surely this meant another--possibly the final--and supreme attack?
The firing continued without intermission for four days. It was
increased and intensified by an attack of the allied fleet upon the
seaward batteries. This new bombardment made itself evident from the
direction of the sounds, and the merciless execution of the fiery
rockets that fell raging into the town.
At length, in the dead of night, McKay was aroused from fitful sleep
by the beating of drums and trumpets sounding the assembly.
It was a general alarm. Troops were heard hurrying to their stations
from all directions, and in the midst of it all was heard--for a
moment there had been a lull in the cannonade--a sharp, long-sustained
sound of musketry fire.
Evidently an attack, but on what points it was made, and how it fared,
McKay at first could have no idea.
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