While
the last rites were said, the voice of the venerable archdeacon was
drowned by the roar of the gun and the hissing of the shells.
When
the ceremony was over, every one hastened home to seek whatever cover
could be found. Crowds of people were massed for hours behind flimsy
walls, which could not protect them, but even this slight pretence of
shelter was comforting. The terrible night of the 10th of February,
1900, will never be effaced from the memories of those who passed
through it.
So
great was the strain upon the nerves of the people that it was
necessary that some one should come to their help, and as usual that "
some one " was Rhodes. Early on Sunday morn-