Tynan had gauged the situation more correctly than Ted. Reckoning overmuch on the prestige of British arms, Munro had calculated that the removal of the civilians to the fort would be an easy matter. Most of the disloyal sepoys had disappeared, having scattered in order to loot the shops and the European bungalows. They were now returning by twos and threes, some laden with plunder, others savage and sullen through disappointment, having found the bungalows deserted and the coveted jewels and money saved from their clutches.

"Here comes that scoundrel Pir Baksh," said Lowthian as the Moslem subadar appeared on the scene. He began to shout some commands unintelligible to the watchers on the walls, and soon succeeded in forming the scattered groups into a dense throng.

"I always detested that fellow," Lowthian continued, "and I believe he's at the bottom of this dastardly business."

"He's got Miss Woodburn's horse too!" Ted cried in an excited voice, as he recognized the bay. "Look! he's pointing towards the fort It's our turn now!"

Pir Baksh was haranguing the sepoys, gesticulating wildly, first towards the strong white building in which the Europeans had taken shelter, and then in the direction of the frowning fortress whose guns commanded Aurungpore, and the air was filled with shouts of "Din, Din, Allah Akbar!"[5]

[5] "The Faith," or "For our Faith, God is Great."

"They're coming at us," Tynan whispered. There was no need to whisper, for the fact was only too evident. The impressive nature of the peril had made him unconsciously lower his voice.

"Are the guns loaded?" he added, nodding towards the half-dozen cannon, whose grim black muzzles stared through the embrasures.

"No, and it would take us an hour to load them," Lowthian replied.

As a measure of precaution, all munitions for the cannon had been stored within the arsenal.

The Rajputs on the bastions that flanked the main gate began to fire wildly as the rebels approached within range.

"Steady, men, steady!" the commandant ordered. "Each cover his man before he fires! That's the way! Well aimed, Ambar Singh!"

The loyal sepoys had pulled themselves together, and there was no further waste of ammunition. Rebel after rebel rolled over in the dust or limped into cover, and the rush was checked. The assailants slowly backed away from the walls, each man trying to dodge behind his neighbour to keep a shield before him as he took aim. Ted looked for Pir Baksh, but that astute pandy, having no intention of exposing himself so prominently on horseback, had dismounted, and was lost amid the mob.

At last the ensign marked his quarry. For a second's space the ringleader had come into view to urge his reluctant hordes to the assault. Hastily covering him, Ted pulled the trigger. A rebel fell, but it was not Pir Baksh. Like the coward he was, he had skipped into safety behind a group of sepoys, and now the front ranks of the mutineers had pressed back upon the rearmost until all were beyond effective range.

Brown Bess could not be trusted to carry far.

"If there is one of the curs I should like to kill it's that traitor Pir Baksh!" Tynan declared with an oath. "I hope I'll live to see him hanged! It was he who shot the colonel; I saw him."

"Are you sure of that?" Lowthian and Ted both asked.

"As sure as that I am here.----What are they up to now?"

Baffled for a moment, the subadar had abandoned the idea of a direct assault, and was seen to be exhorting the men to some new method of attack, for the pandies presently dispersed right and left. A hot fire was still kept up through the windows of Fletcher's house. Lowthian quietly gave an order.

"Tynan, take eight men to the southern bastion, and don't show yourselves until you can strike home. Dal Singh, you keep watch from the north-west tower, and give the alarm if they gather in that direction."

A number of the sepoys were reassembling at the top of the main street where it debouched into the open space facing the main gate. Ted and Lowthian exchanged a meaning look as they perceived that some had brought short ladders and were busily lashing them together.

"If they've any grit they'll soon be over the walls," the senior whispered. "Ha! they mean to attack Tynan's post first."

Under the impression that the garrison was too weak to be distributed, some hundred rebels with a ladder made a dash for the southern wall of the courtyard, keeping out of range from the main gate as they ran. They were within twenty paces when Tynan opened fire. Still they kept on, and planted the ladder against the wall. A second volley rang out, and the pandies hesitated, for the fire had been concentrated on the ladder-bearers, and those who were nearest to them edged farther away, pressing against the walls. They reasoned that it was death to touch the ladder, and many of their comrades were already dead. But by now another rush had been made for the main gate, and though a dozen fell in the assault, the sepoys were more in earnest and they thirsted for revenge.

Two of the Rajputs were knocked over, and Pir Baksh yelled gleefully as he planted a bullet in Lowthian's shoulder.

Still the fort was not yet won. Encouraged by the resolute bearing of their officers, the loyal men continued to fire coolly and rapidly; and the mutineers lacked the inspiration of a leader ready to sacrifice himself for their cause. They again retired out of range, and the cheer raised by the Rajputs at the main gate was echoed back by Tynan's men.

That cheer was ill-timed. Hardly had it died away before an answering yell from the north, savage as a war-whoop, chilled the blood in their veins, for it came from inside the courtyard! A scaling-party had made the circuit, and were already beneath the north-western bastion when Dal Singh reached his post. He looked forth, and before he could give the alarm a bullet struck him in the forehead, the single distant report passing unnoticed amid the noise of battle.

"Inside the fort, lads!" Lowthian shouted. "All together!"

The garrison hastily descended, and, joining forces, charged across the courtyard to escape being cut off. But the rebels were the nearer, and should even one or two of them enter first and bar the door, the garrison was lost. In ten minutes there would be a couple of hundred sepoys inside the courtyard.

One rebel was almost in. Ted stopped, flung his musket to his shoulder, and the man toppled over. Four more pandies were close upon his heels.

As the leader fell, the hindmost of these, dreading the same fate, looked back over his shoulder. A trifling incident, yet that glance cost him dear, and was worth untold gold to the white-faces in Aurungpore.

For as the fellow turned he unconsciously checked his pace, and a lean Rajput, straining every nerve, closed with the faint-hearted traitor before the entrance could be gained. A bayonet-thrust, a scream, and the wretch staggered forward and fell upon his face.

But the other three were inside, and so was Karan Singh the Rajput, alone with his back to the door, cut off from his comrades. A barrier of some thirty exultant rebels had thrust themselves in front, and ladders were even now being set up against the walls by the main gate. If the thirty pandies could keep the loyalists at bay for another five minutes they would all be butchered like goats at the Dashera Festival. Then came the clang of steel, as bayonet crossed bayonet; the three officers emptied and reloaded their pistols, and a yard or two was gained.

Suddenly Ted dodged to the right, and darted at full speed round the pack of sepoys, as a three-quarter back, smartly fed by the half who has picked up the ball from beneath the feet of the scrummagers, circles round his opponents before they know what has happened. He had caught a glimpse of the plucky Karan Singh maintaining the unequal combat, and the Rajput was sore wounded though one of the pandies had fallen to his bayonet.

While still a few strides from the doorway, Ted Russell witnessed the death of the Hindu hero. As one sepoy kept Karan Singh at bay the other managed to reload and let fly, the muzzle barely a foot from the Rajput's breast. The brave man dropped like a log, and his body fell across the threshold. Though they hastily thrust the corpse aside, Ted was upon them before the heavy door could be closed.

The enemy had not dared to pursue the ensign, fearing to turn their backs lest the British should be let in. His pistol was empty and his musket had been cast aside. One of the sepoys lunged. Ted skipped aside, and, turning on his heel, struck wildly at the other's bayonet that was darting towards his chest. The weapon was turned aside, but though his tunic alone was ripped and he himself was untouched, his cherished sword had broken off at the hilt, and he was disarmed.

For the fraction of a second he stood helpless. So lightning-like is thought, that he had time to long for a kick at the slovenly workman who had turned out a weapon as untrustworthy as himself.

"Quick! Close the door, Bakir Khan, while I slay the whelp!"

Ted swerved, grasped the speaker's musket-barrel with his left, and with his right hammered the face of the bewildered sepoy, who howled, but held on to the weapon. The iron-clamped door slammed and the heavy bolts groaned as Bakir Khan shot them home and turned to assist his comrade.

Ted tugged at the musket with all his strength, and suddenly saw at his feet the firearm of the dead pandy. He swooped down, seized the weapon, and jumped backwards just in time, as the bayonet-point flashed harmlessly in front.

A loud pounding of musket-stocks upon the door announced that Lowthian's handful had broken through, or else had all been slain. For an instant the sound stayed the fight inside. Was he alone left after all? Or did it mean that, could he open the door before numbers overwhelmed them, they might all be saved? Hope lent him strength. There was no bayonet to his new weapon, so he gripped it by the muzzle, and, swinging it above his head, he knocked the Brown Bess out of Bakir Khan's hand as that false sepoy made a second lunge. Again he brought the butt-end down, this time with a thud upon the head of Bakir Khan. The second pandy recoiled, still half-dazed by the blows from Ted's sword-hilt. There was no way of escape for him, however, and he sprang like a tiger-cat at the ensign. A third time the musket was swung aloft, and the sepoy reeled and toppled over, stunned.

Ted sprang to the door, and had drawn one of the bolts when a wild fear took hold of him. Who were on the other side? In all probability they were rebels thirsting for English blood, and why should he let them in?

Through the thick door he seemed to see them, pitiless as famished wolves. Why not hide in the vast arsenal and slip out at night?

In less than a second such thoughts had flashed through his mind before he recollected that duty bade him take the risk. The last bolt was shot back; he sprang aside, ready for a charge as the door swung back, and gave a gasp of relief as Tynan and his Rajputs dashed inside.

At their heels came the rebels, and a few got through before Ted and Ambar Singh could close and bar the door. The fight inside the passage was soon over, and the Rajputs sank upon the floor and gasped for breath.

Barely five minutes had sped since Karan Singh's body had fallen across the threshold, yet it seemed many hours. Ted could hardly realize that the main body of assailants under Pir Baksh had only just succeeded in storming the walls (for they had hesitated, fearing a trap) as he cracked the skull of Bakir Khan. Had that fourth sepoy not looked back the arsenal would have been lost.

"Lowthian's done for, I'm afraid!" panted Tynan.

Following his gaze, Ted saw that the Rajputs had brought their commandant in. He knelt down by the side of his friend and found Tynan's surmise only too true, for Lieutenant Lowthian had already breathed his last.

"Shot just as we reached the doorway," Tynan explained; "and half a dozen men killed or badly wounded. What must we do, Russell? They can't get in except through that door, can they?"

"It won't take long to batter the door down if they shape," Ted replied.

"Luckily we've heaps of ammunition here, and any number of muskets.

Look, this room off the passage commands the door, so set two or three men to bring up firearms and we'll load a few dozen."

Before Ted had finished speaking, the spirited Rajputs were emptying their muskets through the narrow slits that loop-holed the thick walls, and the rebels who had been clustering round the door, vainly attempting to batter it down, left the spot in a hurry--at least all did who were able. Ted then posted a couple of men to watch the north-western face of the building and give the alarm if necessary. Blood had been flowing freely down the ensign's face, and he now found time to staunch it. He was not sure when he had received the wound, but at some time or other during the struggle in the passage a bayonet-point had torn the skin from mouth to ear.

The lull in the storm lasted for nearly an hour. Many of the pandies contemptuously flouted the commands of their officers, and, giving up the attack on the fort, began to seek fresh plunder in the town, or joined in the half-hearted attempts to render the English house untenable. The remainder of the force, gathered together by Pir Baksh, kept up a long-range fire through the loopholes, in the hope that some bullets might find their billets.

"Why don't Munro come to the rescue?" Harry Tynan bitterly demanded.

"With eighty men he could break through this gang of cowards, if only he had the pluck to try."