“‘Schatter, boys, an’ find me a sledge.’ Shure, we thought it was demented he was, but he was the only cool man, an’ orders were orders. Dooley, he found one, an’ then the captain went to the rails an’ gave it a swing, an’ struck the bolts crosswise like, so that the heads flew off, like they was shootin’ stars. Then he struck the rails sideways, so as to loosen them from the ties. Then says he: ‘Half a dozen av yez take off yez belts an’ strap these rails together!’ Even then we didn’t understand, but we did it All this time the dirty spal—Oi ask yez pardon, miss—all this time the strikers were pluggin’ at us, an’ bullets flyin’ like fun. ‘Drop your muskets,’ says the captain, when we had done; ‘fall in along those rails. Pick them up, and double-quick for the shed door,’ says he, just as if he was on parade. Then we saw what he was afther, and double-quick we went. Begobs, that door went down as if it was paper. He was the first in. ‘Stand back,’ says he, ‘till Oi see what’s needed.’ Yez should have seen him walk into that sheet av flame, an’ stand theer, quiet-like, thinkin’, an’ it so hot that we at the door were coverin’ our faces to save them from scorchin’. Then he says: ‘Get your muskets!’ We went, an’ Moike says to me: ‘It’s no good. No man can touch them cars. He’s goin’ to attind to the strikers,’ But not he. He came out, an’ he says: ‘B’ys, it’s hot in there, but, if you don’t mind a bit av a burn, we can get the poor fellows out. Will yez try?’ ‘Yes!’ we shouted. So he explained how we could push cars widout touchin’ them. ‘Fall in,’ says he. ‘Fix bayonets. First file to the right av the cars, second rank to the left. Forward, march!’ An’ we went into that hell, an’ rolled them cars out just as if we was marchin’ down Broadway, wid flags, an’ music, an’ women clappin’ hands.” “But weren’t you dreadfully burnt?” “Oh, miss, yez should have seen us! We was blacker thin the divil himsilf. Hardly one av us but didn’t have the hair burnt off the part his cap didn’t cover; an’, as for eyelashes, an’ mustaches, an’ blisters, no one thought av them the next day. Shure, the whole company was in bed, except them as couldn’t lie easy.” “And Mr. Stirling?” “Shure, don’t yez know about him?” “No.” “Why, he was dreadful burnt, an’ the doctors thought it would be blind he’d be; but he went to Paris, an’ they did somethin’ to him there that saved him. Oh, miss, the boys were nearly crazy wid fear av losin’ him. They’d rather be afther losin’ the regimental cat.” Peter had been tempted to interrupt two or three times, but it was so absorbing to watch Leonore’s face, and its changing expression, as, unconscious of his presence, she listened to Dennis, that Peter had not the heart to do it. But now Watts spoke up. “Do you hear that, Peter? There’s value for you! You’re better than the cat.”