casualties, they became more and more eager. The British columns had retired to their positions near the ramparts; the report had flown through the city that the fourth column had been annihilated; the rumour was spreading that the great Nikalsain himself was dead. The fanatical crowds in the streets still indulged a hope that the British would be repelled; and meanwhile, to Minghal Khan and his mob, it seemed that the little party in the house would ere long fall an easy prey. The sultry afternoon was drawing on towards night. All sounds of combat elsewhere in the city had ceased. The attack upon the house had as yet failed: but the outworks had been rendered untenable, and the defence must now be confined to the house itself. It seemed that Minghal Khan was satisfied with what he had gained so far; for the firing suddenly ceased, and as darkness sank down upon the scene it appeared probable that the final assault was deferred until the morning. The doctor scarcely expected a night attack. The enemy had already suffered severely, and, numerous as they were, they were not likely to court the heavy losses that an assault in the dark upon strong defences must entail. That he was right was proved as time passed. A close watch was kept upon the house; fires were lighted both front and back; and men could be heard talking; but there was no sign of a renewal of the assault. The little garrison was glad enough of the respite. They were tired out after the strain of work and fighting during the hot hours of the day. The doctor ordered all the men in turn to act as sentries, one at the back and one at the front, keeping watch while the others slept. It was only at the entreaty of the khansaman that he went to his own bed, and he insisted on being awaked at the first sign of movement among the enemy. Day had hardly dawned when there came a great yelling from the street, and the rumble of distant wheels. The rumbling sound came nearer moment by moment until it suddenly stopped. "Go to the roof," said the doctor to Ahmed. His face wore an expression of great anxiety. Ahmed hurried up through the trap-door and crawled to the parapet. He was at once seen from the roof of the loftiest house, and bullets pattered round him; but he looked over and saw--what he had expected to see. A gun had been brought down the street, and stood in the gateway of the house immediately opposite the gate of the compound. There were no horses: evidently the gun had been dragged to its position by men. The gunners were in the act of loading. Ahmed rushed back across the roof, with less caution than before, and was just descending through the trap-door when a bullet whizzed past his left ear, carrying away a lock of his thick hair. He leapt down the steps, and ran to acquaint the doctor with the new peril in which the house lay.