THE BELEAGUERED CITY AND ITS THREE DEFENDERS. 85 CHAPTER XXII.

THE BELEAGUERED CITY AND ITS THREE DEFENDERS.

While we have been calmly talking about votes of censure, routes to Khartoum, white pine boats, and camels, what of the three Englishmen and their loyal band shut up in the besieged city in the midst of a hostile land two thousand miles from help ? Ah ! what of them ? “ The count of mighty Poets is made up,” sings Keats, “ the scroll is folded by the Muses.” Not so the count of heroes. Brightest on the scroll of Mars will shine the names of Gordon, Stewart, Power. Heroism the world has witnessed before ; but heroism that never yet excelled that displayed by these brave men. It was magnificent, and it was war, that defence of theirs—war every day, every night; fighting hourly for their lives, and for the lives of thousands of men, and women and children. “ Old Homer’s Helicon ! that thou wouldst spout a little streamlet o’er these sorry pages.” I will do my best, my reader, to tell you what they did, these splendid men : forgive me if I fail.

On the seventeenth of April all communication between Gordon and his country was cut off. From then till October the 1st no news came at all. England at home went on its usual way : eating and drinking, talking and dancing, making money and losing it, and speculating how to make more. England at Khartoum—her three representatives there—how are they spend¬ ing the time ? Enjoying themselves ? Yes ; they say they are happy, they say they are hopeful, they say they are well. What are they doing ? Round them on every side are hosts of watchful savages becoming bolder every day. They incessantly attack them, first on this side, then on that ; build forts along the river, place in them powerful cannon and daily push the siege.

Now we hear of a heavy attack from the west, now of a strong force in a con¬ tiguous village. They fight well, these savages. For whole days they will contest a single position, and armed only with spears will rush boldly upon twenty times their number. But so do the Englishmen fight —fight right well. The town is fortified to the last extent. Broken glass, crowsfeet, tangled wire, chevaux-de-frise, and three lines of percussion mines line the walls. The ammunition is all safely housed ; steamers are made bullet-proof by plates of iron ; towers, 20 feet high, are built on the barges ; and from these the enemy is daily shelled. Up and down the river they go, driving the opponents from this fort, blowing up that magazine, capturing cattle,