[Sidenote: April 16/27.] Clive, startled out of his sleep, and never doubting but that the fire was the result of a false alarm, ran to the greater pagoda, turned out two hundred of his Europeans and hurried back with them to the shed. Here he found a large body of French Sepoys drawn up before it and firing incessantly at they knew not what, but in the direction of Seringham. Confirmed by this circumstance in the idea that these were his own men, for the darkness obliterated all distinctions of dress, he drew up his Europeans in their rear and ran in among them, rebuking and even striking them for what he supposed to be their panic. For some minutes this absurd position remained unchanged, until one of the Sepoys discovering at last that Clive was a Englishman, attacked him and wounded him in two places with his sword. Clive turned upon him instantly, and the Sepoy finding himself overpowered fled into the pagoda pursued by Clive, who was now in the highest pitch of exasperation over what he conceived to be the mutinous behaviour of one of his own men. To his amazement Clive was accosted at the gate by six Frenchmen; and then at last he was undeceived. With astonishing composure he told them that he was come to offer them terms, and invited them to see his whole army drawn up ready to attack them. Completely deceived by his confidence the French surrendered; and Clive then prepared to attack the Sepoys, but found that they were already withdrawn out of reach of his Europeans. There still remained, however, the larger force of the enemy's Europeans, including the British deserters, which had occupied the greater pagoda. These last refused to surrender, and made so desperate a resistance that at daybreak Clive approached them to open a parley. Owing to weakness from loss of blood he was obliged to lean on the shoulders of two sergeants; but the officer of the deserters, whether through desperation or sheer brutality, at once presented a musket at him and fired. The bullet missed Clive but wounded both of the sergeants to death; whereupon the French soldiers, fearing that their apparent connivance with such an act might debar them from any claim to quarter, immediately laid down their arms. All the Europeans of the enemy's force being now secured, the Mahratta horse was despatched in pursuit of the retreating Sepoys, whom they overtook before they had reached the Coleroon and cut down to a man. Thus for the second time did Clive's marvellous presence of mind not only pluck himself and his troops out of deadly peril, but turn his enemies' devices with terrible retribution upon their own head. [Sidenote: April 26/May 7.] [Sidenote: April 28/May 9.] [Sidenote: June 2/13.]