Day had dawned. It was the fourth day. Now everything was lost, but they would not surrender. They had crawled on to the roof and they waited for the soldiers to come as soon as it was light. They would be here shortly now. In the distance there was heavy machine-gun fire, and the sky was red in one quarter, not with the dull blaze of the rising summer sun, but with the dark red flare of flames mixed with black smoke, crackling upwards, winding and jumping in ghastly shapes, while timbers fell with monstrous jumbling sounds into the broad street, away to the right; where the Republican headquarters was surrounded and on the point of capture.


Great Roof Black Smoke Narrow Street Broad Street High Port 
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Copyright information

© Liam O’Flaherty 1999

Authors and Affiliations

  • A. A. Kelly

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