But the stillness endured for only a few moments. It was broken by the
American fleet, which seemed to draw itself together into closer and more
compact form. An order in a low tone, but sharp and precise, was carried
from boat to boat, and it seemed to strengthen the men anew, heart and
body. They straightened up, signs of exhaustion passed from their faces,
and every one made ready all the arms that he had.
Paul, like the others, had felt the sudden silence, but perhaps most
acutely of all. His whole imaginative temperament was on fire. He knew--he
would have known, even had he not heard--that the sudden cessation of the
firing was merely preliminary, a fresh drawing of the breath as it were
for another and supreme effort. He clasped his hands to his temples, where
the pulses were beating rapidly and heavily, and his face burned as if in
a fever. But it was a fever of the mind not of the body.
"It's a big battle, Paul," said Shif'less Sol, who had come with Tom Ross
into their boat, "but it's wuth it. The arms and other things that we
carry in these boats may be wuth millions an' millions to the people who
come after us."
"Do you think we'll ever break through, Sol?" asked Paul.
"Shorely," replied the shiftless one.
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