Great guns were trained upon Henry and himself.

A thin, fine smoke from the two shots had entered the cabin, and it floated about, tickling his nostrils, and adding, with its savor, to the fever that began to rise in his blood.

He dropped to his knees, and was creeping, rifle ready, toward one of the loopholes, eager with the desire to fire back, when Henry's strong hand fell upon his shoulder.
"I understand what you want, Paul," he whispered.

"I, too, feel it, but it pays us to wait.

Let 'em waste their lead." Paul stopped, ashamed of himself, and his blood grew cooler.