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Munroe, Kirk, 1850-1930

"The Flamingo Feather"

So when, towards morning of the fourth night, after two
hours of wearily pacing the walls in the cold, drenching rain, he was
relieved, and flung himself, all wet as he was, upon a couch in his own
quarters, he determined to remonstrate with Simon upon the subject.
In spite of his feelings, Rene had been absolutely faithful to his
duty, which, alas! the soldier who relieved him was not. After a few
turns upon the parapet, during which he neither saw nor heard anything
to disquiet him, this sentinel sought shelter from the beatings of the
storm in an angle of the walls, where he soon fell into a doze.
Even then the Spaniards were at the gates, awaiting the signal to make
an attack. It was given, and Rene had hardly dropped into a troubled
sleep when he was rudely awakened by a crash, a rending of wood, the
wild scream of agony with which the unfaithful sentinel yielded up his
life, and the triumphant yells of the enemy, who had forced an entrance
through the little unguarded postern-gate.
Rene sprang to the door, and for an instant stood motionless, petrified
by terror at the awful sights that greeted his gaze. Already flames
were bursting from many of the tents and barracks, and by the light
thus given he saw men, women, and children, almost naked as they had
sprung from their beds, flying in every direction before the pitiless
Spaniards. Wherever they turned the fugitives were met by long pikes,
gleaming swords, and keen daggers, and above the howlings of the storm
rose their shrill screams of terror and quickly stifled cries of mortal
agony.


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