When the first shock of horror had passed away in a measure, there came the question as to who might be the victims, and then those who had talked mutiny and urged their fellows on to rankest insubordination turned pale as death, while many of them walked totteringly away as if unable to control their limbs. We all believed, and with good reason, that those unfortunates who were to suffer death at the hands of the most cruel-minded men God ever made, were none other than the deserters from our ranks. During the assault not one of the garrison had been taken prisoner, and certain it was that the besiegers had not left the vicinity of the fort for such length of time as would be sufficient to enable them to procure captives elsewhere, therefore did we know beyond a peradventure who the victims would be, but why only two were to suffer was something at which we could not even so much as guess. I saw Colonel Gansevoort and several of the officers come out from headquarters, having most likely been informed as to what was going on, and, when they stood where it was possible to have an unobstructed view of the horrible preparations, the entire garrison of Fort Schuyler were assembled as spectators. "Cannot something be done for the poor fellows?" I heard a man behind me ask in a quavering tone, and, turning, I saw one who had declared most vehemently but a few hours previous that if we would surrender the fort we could be assured beyond question of such treatment as civilized people give to prisoners of war. No one answered his question, and in a whisper I repeated it to Sergeant Corney, whereupon he shook his head decidedly. "The commander who would make a sortie for the purpose of savin' only two lives would be guilty of criminal folly," the old soldier said, emphatically. "If those who are to suffer were Colonel Gansevoort's nearest friends, still must he remain here idle rather than put in jeopardy all the garrison. As it is, those painted devils are givin' us sich a lesson as will cause every man here to fight until the death, rather than so much as hint that we might trust to the enemy's promises. It's a harsh remedy--the harshest man could imagine; but yet there are an hundred or more lookin' on at this minute who need it." I cannot make the feeblest attempt at describing the horror which took possession of me as I realized that we could make no effort toward saving the unfortunate men, who were not the less to be pitied because they had brought about their own misery, and, unable longer to gaze at what was so soon to be such a terrible scene, I turned away with a mind to shut myself up in the barracks. Chapter XV. The Torture