A hail of blows besieged them. The bronze staples began to
bend.
"Come, men!" commanded the Master. "No chance to defend this position.
They'll be in, directly. There are thousands of them in reserve! Away
from here!"
"Where the devil _to_?" demanded the major, defiantly. "Hang to
it--give 'em blue Hell as they come through!"
The Master seized and flung him back.
"If you're so keen on dying," he cried, "you can die right now, for
insubordination! Back, away from here, you idiot!"
The major obeyed. The others followed. Already the door was
creaking, giving, as the Legionaries--now hardly more than a dozen in
number--began the first steps of their retreat, that should rank in
history with that of Xenophon's historic Ten Thousand.
The Greeks had all of God's outdoors for their maneuvers. These
Legionaries had nothing but dark pits and runways, unexplored, in the
bowels of a huge, fanatic city. Thus, their retreat was harder. But
with courage unshaken, they turned their backs on the yielding door,
and set their faces toward darkness and the unknown.
Two of their number lay dead inside this chamber where the Legionaries
now were. Nothing could be done for them; the bodies simply had to be
abandoned where they lay.
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