Thereon the Commandant ordered fifteen file of the guard to this barrier, and with lowered bayonets the men advanced. Many fell back; many were driven on with curses and sharp wounds; but the inert mass behind yielded slowly, while the phalanx in front refused to yield. They kept their ground and held the gate. They insulted the soldiers, and even dared Short to fire upon them. The first use of that awful word was in Burnham's mouth. "We are free men!" he shouted; "and you have no jurisdiction upon us, and no right to lift these bars between us and liberty. You might as soon dare to fire upon us as order us to bide here. This night we take our liberty, since you abuse your trust and deny it to us in a country that is at peace with ours." The mass who heard yelled and pressed forward; those who heard not answered the yell, and guessing nothing of the bayonets in front, fought to get there. Short answered Burnham. "Before God, they shall fire if----" But his troops, now maddened with anger, and sore buffeted by the foremost of the prisoners, heard the word "fire," and waited for no context. A crash and a vibrating roar followed, and Short's sentence was never spoken. Into the waning light flashed the muskets, and with the billowy smoke there rolled aloft a shriek of fear and of agony where souls parted from life. William Burnham fell shot through the head, and several perished with him. About fifty men were wounded, and the great yard ran blood. Many of the soldiers had fired reluctantly and discharged their weapons over the heads of the prisoners; but the cry of "Blank cartridge!" lifted in the rear had no power to stay the awful panic that followed. A bellow went up from thousands of throats, and the masses of men fell back and poured like rivers into the gaols. It was then that certain knaves among the soldiery, themselves secure on the wall of the prison, opened a cross fire and slew not a few innocent men as they fled to safety. None was brought to justice for this damnable deed, because not one criminal could be discovered when the catastrophe was investigated. Chaos indescribable ruled that hour. Short toiled like a madman to stay the mischief. He stood before his own men and yelled himself hoarse with execration and command. But the soldiers were out of hand. They had suffered much, and in their base minds the hour of vengeance was come. At length non-commissioned officers succeeded where their superiors had failed. Sergeant Bradridge and others drew off the garrison, and Doctor Macgrath, with his orderlies and many recruits, hastened to the dead and dying. Not a few had already perished; others were mortally wounded. Recognising Cecil Stark, the doctor approached where he knelt beside his old messmate; but a glance sufficed. "That man is dead," he said, and hastened on to tend the living.