land, pointing across the park, "are not these men? Yes, I can make them out distinctly now; the ground behind the wall swarms with them. They mean mischief evidently; "and as he spoke, a number of figures in white could be seen in the twilight clambering over the wall and forming up on the inside.
Falkland rushed down the stairs with Yorke at his heels, but just as he reached the bottom, he turned to the latter, and pointing upwards said, "Just run back and tell them all to lie down and keep under shelter till this business is over."
Yorke ran up again to the roof. The top of the staircase was near the edge, and coming out of it his attention was irresistibly caught by the sight which presented itself below. On all sides a swarm of sepoys, rushing out from cover, had surrounded the building, and halting at about fifty paces opened fire upon it. They were dressed in white, with small skull-caps and bare legs. Some lay down as if skirmishing on parade, others stood boldly up on the lawn, reloading, or taking aim. The flashes of fire, bright in the grey twilight, seemed almost to encircle the building. And coming up the main road from the entrance-gate was a strong column with their arms at the shoulder, led by a native officer waving his sword.
Yorke stood spell-bound for a moment watching the scene, till, becoming sensible that some one was standing close behind him, he turned round. It was Olivia. A light scarf round her shoulders concealed the crumpled dress, but her long tresses had escaped from their bands and hung loosely over her shoulder.
"Is this to be the end?" she said, hardly looking at him, but gazing with dilated eye, in which, however, there was no sign of fear, at the spectacle below. "What can we women do to help?"
"Nothing," he returned, "except to keep out of fire. You really must," he continued, in a pleading voice, for they had been observed on the roof, and the bullets began to whizz past them; and then seeing that she stood as if spell-bound, he suddenly seized her hands in his, and pressing her palms back on the wrists forced her to the ground. This was done in an instant. "I am only obeying orders," he said smiling, as he rose up and let go her hands; "keep like this, quite flat, and you will be safe." Then turning to the others, who were now, some sitting, some standing, bewildered, he cried, "Down, all of you, flat on your backs!" and then rushed down the stairs.
Hurried though he was, the young man could not help being struck by the contrast between the scene within and that which he had just seen without; the crowd of sepoys pressing round the building, and the blaze of fire as seen in the cool morning air, the dark barricaded portico below, with the handful of grimy-looking defenders in the sweltering heat, some firing through the loopholes, the rest standing in reserve on the steps, ready for what might happen. But there was not much time for deliberation. The attacking column, some hundreds in number, was already upon them, spreading round the portico; and the foremost, seizing the protruding muskets with their hands turned the aim away, and, pressed on by those behind, pushed against the frail wall which blocked up the two carriage-entrances and the spaces between the pillars, and tried to turn it over, pulling down the sandbags at the top at the same time and throwing them inwards, the dust from which, as they fell to the ground, mingled with the smoke to obscure the scene. There was no firing just at this moment. The defenders of the portico, having already discharged their muskets, had not time to load. The sepoys in the rear could not fire in that direction for their comrades in front. For a few seconds, although the fusilade was kept up all round, the only sounds immediately about the portico were the shouts and oaths of the rebel party, freely given back by the sepoys within, their scuffling as they pressed against the rampart, and the stamping of the frightened horses trying to preak loose from their tethers. Nothing could be seen by either side of the other; the sandbag rampart protected the assailants as well as the defenders.
Presently a hand protruded over the wall, clutching it by the top as if some one were going to spring over. A sword gleamed in the air, and came down swiftly on the exposed wrist, and the armless hand dropped lightly down inside the wall. It was Ameer Khan who had struck the blow, springing forward from the side of his master on the steps.
Just then a piece of the upper part of the wall came down, a portion three feet in width, at the east side of the portico. Behind it stood one of the seventeen faithful sepoys, a stalwart young fellow, who brandished his musket by the barrel, ready to strike the first man who should enter through the gap. There was irresolution among the assailants closest to him, but a man from behind called out to them to step aside, and firing his musket the sepoy fell.
