Mass’ George： A Boy’s Adventures in the Old Savannah
Chapter 44
George Manville Fenn
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_ CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
There was an involuntary movement amongst those within hearing at this, and for the moment it was as if every one present was about to seek safety in flight, as my father stood pointing wildly toward the blazing fort. Then, recovering himself from the shock of my father's words, the General exclaimed, hoarsely--
"I had forgotten that." And then in his customary firm way, he said, "The reserve supply of ammunition is in the little magazine, men. Twelve volunteers to bring it out."
A deathly silence for a few minutes, only broken by the terrible crackle and roar of the flames; and then my father stepped toward the blazing building.
"I am too much hurt to carry," he said, "but I will lead. Now, my lads, for Old England!"
"Hurray!" shouted Morgan, darting to his side, "and bonny Cymrw."
A great black figure with torn and scorched cotton garments was the next to step forward, and, carried away by a strange feeling of enthusiasm which mastered the horrible dread I felt, I ran to my father's side.
"No, no, no, my boy," he groaned. "Go back!"
"With you, father," I said; and he uttered a sob as he grasped my hand.
"God be with us!" I heard him whisper; and he said no more, but halting and resting wearily on me, as a dozen men now came forward with a cheer, he led the way to the door of the blazing pile.
Twice over I felt my legs tremble beneath me, but the tremor passed away in the excitement, and with the flames seeming to roar more fiercely, as if resenting an attempt to save that which was their prey, we passed from the eye-aching blaze of light through the strong doors into the black darkness of the fort, all reeking with smoke and steam. _