rusted to my care.'

The thunder of the Swedish cannon, as it echoed and re-echoed through
the lofty carved-work of the cathedral roof, made the Burgomaster too
ill at ease to stay longer in the church. On reaching the open air, he
found that the enemy had never yet poured in so heavy a fire as that of
to-day. 'By it every building was shaken,' says the chronicle, 'and
there was as great alarm in the town as if heaven and earth had been
rolled together.'

This time the enemy did not content himself with merely letting his
heavy guns play against the walls and gates, especially the Peter Gate,
but used his mortars to pour large quantities of stones, balls, and
shells directly into the town itself.

The sights and sounds that saluted Schoenleben almost put his
newly-formed resolutions to flight. He hastened back to the
market-place.

'The enemy is pressing hard on the Meissen and Erbis Gates,' shouted a
breathless messenger, sent in haste to summon assistance from the town
hall, and immediately detachments of the auxiliaries drawn up there
started at the double to strengthen the threatened points. As they
went they uttered loud shouts of joy, and clashed their weapons till
the market-place rang again.

The crash of bursting shells could now be distinctly heard above the
thunder of the artillery, but happily most of these deadly missiles
fell in the more open spaces and did but little harm. The miners were
acquitting themselves of their dangerous duties courageously and well
under the able leadership of their brave captain, George Frederick von
Schomberg, and the master miner, Andreas Baumann. Whenever a column of
smoke rose, or shells fell on a house, or the fearful cry of 'fire' was
heard, their aid was speedily at hand. Beneath a continuous shower of
stones and bullets they climbed upon roofs, handed buckets of water,
and extinguished flames, heeding neither fire, choking vapour, nor
falling rafters. Like boys playing at ball, they sprang on the
smouldering shells the moment they touched the ground, and
extinguishing the fusee, rendered them harmless before they had time to
do their fatal work of death and destruction.

As Schoenleben turned the corner by the butchers' stalls, some ponderous
iron object fell with a heavy thud just in front of him, sank into the
earth, and disappeared. At the same moment, two young people came out
of a neighbouring house and ran across the street to the newly-made
hole;