ly
price for which such a treasure could be obtained was some handfuls of
oatmeal. Leprosies, such as strange and unwholesome diet engenders, made
existence a constant torment. The whole city was poisoned by the stench
exhaled from the bodies of the dead and of the half dead. That there
should be fits of discontent and insubordination among men enduring such
misery was inevitable. At one moment it was suspected that Walker had
laid up somewhere a secret store of food, and was revelling in private,
while he exhorted others to suffer resolutely for the good cause. His
house was strictly examined: his innocence was fully proved: he regained
his popularity; and the garrison, with death in near prospect, thronged
to the cathedral to hear him preach, drank in his earnest eloquence with
delight, and went forth from the house of God with haggard faces and
tottering steps, but with spirit still unsubdued. There were, indeed,
some secret plottings. A very few obscure traitors opened communications
with the enemy. But it was necessary that all such dealings should be
carefully concealed. None dared to utter publicly any words save words
of defiance and stubborn resolution. Even in that extremity the general
cry was "No surrender." And there were not wanting voices which, in low
tones, added, "First the horses and hides; and then the prisoners;
and then each other." It was afterwards related, half in jest, yet not
without a horrible mixture of earnest, that a corpulent citizen, whose
bulk presented a strange contrast to the skeletons which surrounded him,
thought it expedient to conceal himself from the numerous eyes which
followed him with cannibal looks whenever he appeared in the streets,
[251]

It was no slight aggravation of the sufferings of the garrison that
all this time the English ships were seen far off in Lough Foyle.
Communication between the fleet and the city was almost impossible.
One diver who had attempted to pass the boom was drowned. Another
was hanged. The language of signals was hardly intelligible. On the
thirteenth of July, however, a piece of paper sewed up in a cloth
button came to Walker's hands. It was a letter from Kirke, and contained
assurances of speedy relief. But more than a fortnight of intense misery
had since elapsed; and the hearts of the most sanguine were sick with
deferred hope. By no art could the provisions which were left be made to
hold out two days more, [252]

Just at this time Kirke