The chimes from the old church tower again sang the half hour and then it came--_a sudden sword leap of red flame on the horizon_! A shell rose in the sky, glowing in pale phosphorescent trail, and burst in a flash of blinding flame over the dark lump in the harbor. The flash had illumined the waters and revealed the clear outlines of the casemates with their black mouths of steel gaping through the portholes. A roar of deep, dull thunder shook the world. Jennie fell on her knees with clasped hands and upturned face. Her lips were not moving, and no sound came from the little dry throat, but from the depths of her heart rose the old, old cry of love. "Lord have mercy on my darling brothers, and keep them safe--let no harm come to them--and Dick, too--brave and strong!" The house below was stirring with the rush of hurrying feet in the corridors and the clatter on the narrow stairs that led to the roof. They crowded to the edge and gazed seaward. The hum of voices came now from every house. Women were crying. Some were praying. Men were talking in low, excited tones. Jennie paid no attention to the people about her. Her eyes were fixed on those tongues of flame that circled Sumter. Anderson was firing now, his big guns flashing their defiant answer to Beauregard's batteries. Jennie watched the lurid track of his shells with sickening dread. A man standing beside her in the gray dawn spoke. "A waste of ammunition!" The cannon boomed now with the regular throb of a great human pulse. The sobs and excited cries and prayers of women had become a part of the weird scene. A young mother stood beside Jennie with a baby boy in her arms. He was delighted with the splendid display and the roar of the guns. He pointed his fingers to the circling shells and cried: "'Ook, mamma, 'ook!" The mother made no answer. Only with her hungry eyes did she follow their track to the shore. Her mate was there. The baby clapped his hands and caught the rhythm of the throb and roar of the cannon in his little voice: "Boom!--Boom!" The sun rose from the sea, a ball of dull red fire glowing ominously through the haze of smoke that hung in the sky. Hour after hour the guns pealed, the windows rattled and the earth trembled. Couriers were dashing into the city with reports from the batteries. Soldiers were marching through the streets. It was reported that the men from the fleet would attempt a landing. The women rushed to the little iron balcony and watched the troops marching to repel them. In the first line Jennie saw the tall figure of Dick Welford. He glanced upward, lifted his cap and held it steadily in his hand for four blocks until they turned and swept out of sight. Jennie was leaning on the rail with tear-dimmed eyes. "I wonder why that soldier took his hat off?" her aunt asked. "Yes--I wonder!" was the soft answer.