A cannon shot shrieked over his
head, and then another. Once more they were the focus of the combat. The
forest in front of them sparkled as rapidly as before with beads of
flame.
Paul rose reluctantly and turned away. The priest lay on his back, his
face, pale and perfectly peaceful, upturned to the skies. Alvarez was a
dozen yards away, but his figure, still forever, was motionless in the
shadows. Paul did not bestow a glance upon him, but he gave Father
Montigny a last long look of affection and sorrow as he turned away.
"Down, Paul, down!" cried Henry, when Paul and Shif'less Sol reached the
others. "We saw what happened! You cannot do anything for him now!"
He dragged Paul down, and in an instant all of them turned their full
energy to the defense. The attack upon them was renewed with uncommon fire
and fury. The Indians and desperadoes wished to pass that particular neck
of land in order that they might pour a storm of bullets upon the crippled
fleet and the skirmishers who were yet coming in; but the little band,
headed by Henry Ware, still held them back.
Henry looked once or twice toward the river and saw the boats hovering far
out in the stream. He judged that, in the darkness and confusion, Adam
Colfax no longer knew where the Kentuckians lay, and it was even possible
that he might lose them entirely; but the fact did not shake Henry's
resolve.
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