The forts, however, were not surprised; the Chinese, waiting for the signal of attack on the houses, were perceived by the sentinel, and he immediately aroused Mr. Crymble, who resided in the stockade, which contained the arsenal and the prison. He endeavoured to make some preparations for defence, although he had but four Malays with him. He had scarcely time, however, to load a six-pounder field-piece, and get his own rifle ready, before the Chinese, with loud shouts, rushed to the assault. They were led by a man bearing in either hand a flaming torch. Mr. Crymble waited till they were within forty yards; he then fired and killed the man, who, by the light he bore, made himself conspicuous, and before the crowd recovered from the confusion in which they were thrown by the fall of their leader, discharged among them the six-pounder loaded with grape, which made the assailants retire behind the neighbouring houses or hide in the outer ditches. But with four men little could be done, and some of the rebels having quietly crossed the inner ditch, commenced removing the planks which constituted the only defence. To add to the difficulty, they threw over into the inner court little iron tripods, with flaming torches attached, which rendered it as light as day, while all around was shrouded in darkness. To increase the number of defenders, Mr. Crymble released two Malay prisoners, one a madman, who had killed his wife, the other a debtor. The latter quickly disappeared, while the former, regardless of the shot flying around, stood to the post assigned him, opposite a plank which the Chinese were trying to remove; he had orders to fire his carbine at the first person who appeared, and when, the plank giving way, a man attempted to force his body through, he pulled the trigger without lowering the muzzle of his carbine and sent the ball through his own brains. Mr. Crymble now found it useless to prolong the struggle, as one of his four men was killed, and another, a brave Malay corporal, was shot down at his side. The wounded man begged Mr. Crymble to fly and leave him there, but asked him to shake hands with him first, and tell him whether he had not done his duty; but the Englishman seized him by the arm and attempted to drag him up the stairs leading to the dwelling-house over the gate, but the Chinese had already gained the court-yard, and pursuing drove their spears through the wounded man, and Mr. Crymble was forced to let go his hold, and with a brave follower, Duud, swung himself down into the ditch below. Some of the rebels seeing their attempted escape, tried to stop Mr. Crymble, and a man stabbed at him, but only glanced his thick frieze coat, and received in return a cut across the face from the Englishman’s cutlass, which, if he be still alive, will be a remembrance to carry to the grave.