He pointed to the rickety-looking native house, built against the wall opposite to that in which was the gateway, and indicated with a movement of his finger a window which occupied the central post. Owen gave a start of surprise, and putting his hand to his mouth, for the shouting outside was becoming deafening, called loudly for the old man. A moment later the four peons who had been selected by Mulha were racing for the house, following in the wake of the figure of the owner, whose grey beard streamed in the wind, while his thin legs cut across the ground at a pace and in a manner which at another time would have brought a shout of laughter from the onlookers. For this native was well advanced in years, and a thriving farm, increasing wealth and possessions, and some amount of power, had engrafted on him a degree of dignity which forbade all such active movements. He was wont to pass quietly and majestically amongst his peons, not to race across the yard with his beard and turban flying in the wind, and his thin shanks exposed far above the knee. However, necessity is the cause of many a change. In less than a minute his anxious face appeared at the window, with the four men beside him. "We can fire well from here, my lord," he called down in his high-pitched, squeaky tones. "There is no danger of our hitting you at the gate, though I am warning the men. Look, sahib, they are coming!" His tones rose to a shriek, and as Owen stared through the gateway he realised at once the reason for his sudden excitement. The Mahrattas were coming. Gathered in a close mass they had advanced till just within shot of the walls, and had halted while their leader harangued them, walking up and down before them and waving his tulwar. But now they were advancing once more, and on this occasion at a run, their eyes fixed eagerly upon the heads of the defenders which now appeared above the barricade erected within. Owen turned to his men and pointed to the enemy. "You see them for yourselves," he said in significant tones. "Let them enter, and not a single man here will live to tell the story. Hold to your posts, beat them back, and slay as many as you can, and you will be proud men to the end of your days, and more than that, the news of your success will keep others from coming. Now, let each act coolly. Not a shot is to be fired from here till I give the word. Stand beside the barricade, and do not allow a single one to climb over it."