There was a dead silence. Then, I grieve to say, shame and its twin brother rage took possession of their weak humanity. Oh, yes! It was all of a piece! Why in the name of Folly hadn’t he sent for an able-bodied man. Were they to be drowned through his cranky obstinacy?
The blows still went on slowly. Presently, however, they seemed to alternate with other blows—but alas! they were slower, and if possible feebler!
“Have they got another cripple to work?” roared the Contingent in one furious voice.
“No—it’s a woman—a little one—yes! a girl. Hello! Why, sure as you live, it’s Delaware!”
A spontaneous cheer burst from the Contingent, partly as a rebuke to Sparrell, I think, partly from some shame over their previous rage. He could take it as he liked.
Still the blows went on distressingl
