there was nothing there but blank space; and on the ground within was
the tumble and rubbish that had been roof and floors and furniture.
Everything inside was smashed and pulverised into scrap and dust, and
the only objects that had consistency and their ancient shape were the
bricks that fell when the shells struck them.

Rifle shots had begun to strike the house on the further side of the
street, a jewellers' shop called Hopkins & Hopkins. The impact of these
balls on the bricks was louder than the sound of the shot which
immediately succeeded, and each bullet that struck brought down a shower
of fine red dust from the walls. Perhaps thirty or forty shots in all
were fired at Hopkins', and then, except for an odd crack, firing
ceased.

During all this time there had been no reply from the Volunteers, and I
thought they must be husbanding their ammunition, and so must be short
of it, and that it would be only a matter of a few days before the end.
All this, I said to myself, will be finished in a few days, and they
will be finished; life here will recommence exactly where it left off,
and except for some newly-filled graves, all will be as it had been
until they become a tradition and enter the imagination of their race.

I spoke to several of the people about me, and found the same
willingness to exchange news that I had found elsewhere in the City, and
the same reticences as regarded their private opinions. Two of them,
indeed, and they were the only two I met with during the insurrection,
expressed, although in measured terms, admiration for the Volunteers,
and while they did not side with them they did not say anything against
them. One was a labouring man, the other a gentleman. The remark of the
latter was: