"Try me, sor! God bless your honour! This night I'll be as drunk as a lord, an' so will all me mates. 'Twill lighten the day an' the weight of these ---- stakes. ----- ----- all Rooshians! They don't know how to treat a sailorman." CHAPTER LXVII THE BEGINNING OF THE END And so, at last, we come to the end of that titanic struggle in the East--so far, that is, as we are directly concerned in it. It was in the first days of September, just twelve months after the Modern Armada sailed from Varna in hopes of settling matters out of hand, that the great bombardment opened; the earth shook and the heavens shuddered, and men grown used to the sound of big guns were amazed at the hideous uproar. Fifteen hundred of the heaviest guns in existence thundered back and forth in concert, and the hot hail of more than half of them rained ceaselessly on the stricken town. The sky was hidden by the smoke, and through the smoke, along with the bursting shells, shot flights of fiery rockets to add to the inferno inside. Within that fiery pale no soul ventured forth. Jim and Greski paced their gloomy quarters like restless animals--hopeful of the end, doubtful what it might entail. The women sat in corners in momentary expectation of death. All who could go had crossed the harbour to the safety of the northern heights. Greski, as the result of many discussions with Jim, had resolved to stay where he was and trust to luck and the Allies. For four days and nights the doomed city suffered that most awful scourging, and then there came a lull, and the taut-strung men in the cellar looked meaningly at one another. And presently they crept cautiously out into the sulphurous upper air, just as day was breaking. "It is ended," said Greski, for the low thick clouds of smoke rolling over the town were all aglow with the flames of burning buildings. Wherever they turned, fresh fires were bursting out. And as they stood looking, a mighty explosion shook the earth and half a dozen shattered houses near at hand came crashing into the street. Another tremendous explosion, and another and another. "It is all over," said Greski quietly again. "They are blowing up the bastions and burning the town. That, I know, was decided on long since, if it came to the point. Moscow over again." From where they were they could not see the explosions and they did not dare to venture far. But presently all the harbour was red with the blaze of burning ships, and they could see the new bridge of boats, leading across to the north side, black with crowds of hurrying fugitives. Then Fort Nicholas below them burst into flame, and the smoke from Fort Paul, just across from it, rolled along the roadstead. It was a most amazing scene, beyond description, almost beyond imagination.