Only those who have experienced the feeling can know what it is to be one of a storming party, or the curious sensations with which men are filled. Happily for Owen he was a high-spirited, merry youngster, and had been in tight places before. He allowed nothing to damp his ardour, and when the men broke into a trot, crushed well towards the front. Very soon he found himself beside the ranks of one of the two Highland regiments which were with this force, and just in front of a Sepoy battalion. There was a shout, bayonets came down to the charge, while the kilts of the men swung out still wider. There was a hoarse growl of excitement, and then a roar from the throats of the gallant fellows. They were in the ditch. Owen caught his foot on a piece of masonry at the very summit and pitched head foremost to the bottom, alighting on the shoulders of a brawny Highlander, who shook him off with an oath, recognised an officer, and helped him to his feet. Then, side by side, Owen sabre in hand, and the kilted soldier armed with his fearsome bayonet, they scrambled up the steep slope and into the breach. "Hang on, sir. Give me your hand!" shouted the fine fellow as Owen was forced back. "Hah! that's as muckle as ye'll want." He stretched out a huge paw and dragged Owen up, turning just in time to ward off a thrust made by one of the enemy. Then he lifted his weapon and brought the butt with terrific force against the man's chest, dashing him to the ground so suddenly that the unfortunate native split his head against a portion of tumbled masonry. Then there was a fierce mêlée for a few seconds, a mêlée in which bayonets crossed, and tulwars and swords flashed in the sun. The air was filled with the shouts of the Mahratta foot, and with the guttural exclamations of the Arabs. Blows fell thick and fast, while from attackers and attacked there came the sound of deep-drawn breathing. Then a shout was heard. "Forward! into the town!" A fierce excited cheer answered the summons, and in a moment the Highlanders flung the enemy aside as if they had been but spray from the ocean, and won their way through the breach. "Charge! Don't give them time to get to the houses, men," called out the commanding officer. At once the ranks, which were already broken, divided altogether, and the Highlanders charged against the houses clustered near at hand. But the enemy were before them, and for some little while Owen and his new comrades had tough work to carry through. "Sahib, come here, where you can shelter," said one of the Sepoys, with whom he now found himself fighting. "You have no musket and can do nothing. Presently we will charge and then you can lead."