I sprang forward, 'Siah gave a shout like the bellowing of a mad bull. I rushed into the mill yard. The glass was falling from the frames with crash upon crash, sticks and stones were flying above our heads as we streamed forward. The volleys of musketry made their din, and now from loop holes and from windows came answering shots. We could see the streak of fire from the barrels and hear the sharp ping of the bullets as they whizzed about our heads. Our men roared and roared again and yelled with frenzied cries. There were men there who could do nought but roar and yell and curse. They had only sticks and hatchets, and till the doors were down sticks and hatchets were of no avail. "Way for Enoch!" I cried. "'Siah it's thee and me now." "Way for Enoch!" came a ringing cry from the roaring crowd, and the men fell aside as 'Siah and I bounded to the front. The door stood staunch and true. I rushed at it with a curse and a cry and smote as I never smote before. You could hear the din of my every stroke rolling away into the emptiness of the mill within, and from the great bolt heads that studded the panels the sparks flew fast and thick as I thundered at the door. "Bang up, Ben!" cried the voices I knew so well. "Damn the door, will it never yield?" 'Siah was by my side. There was room only for us two, and above the roar of the mob, above the yells and curses and cries, above the thud of stones and the crash of falling lime and glass, above the clanging of the mill bell, above the din of gun and pistol, rang out the mighty sound of Enoch's echoing thunder. With every blow that fell quivering shocks ran up my arm as the hammer dithered in my grasp, and still I pounded at the door, and still the stout timbers yielded not a jot. I wielded my maul fast and furious, but now with feebler blows, for my wind began to fail me; but 'Siah pounded on calm and stolid as if he stood in the village smithy. "It's no use, Ben," I heard his hoarse voice in my ear. "It's no use, aw'm feart, but we'll keep braying. Howd thi strength, tha'll want it." "Let's try at th' back," shouted George. "To the back, Ben. There's a way in at th' back, they say." "To the back be it," I heard a voice within; "We'll be there to greet you." And that was near the last sound I heard. I fell back from the door that had stood so well our fury and looked up at the window front. I think I raised my hand to my head to wipe away the sweat that was blinding my eyes. Then I was aware of a sharp burning boring pain in the muscle of my upper arm, and Enoch fell with a clatter into the cobbles of the yard, and I turned sick and dizzy and faint. The crowd were rushing away from the mill front round to the back, and I tried to follow them. But my eyes had a film before them, and I reeled and swayed like a drunken man, and when I tried to lift my arm a hundred daggers seemed to dig deep into my shoulder, and my arm fell useless by my side.