On hearing the whine of this ragged missile, I instinctively bobbed my head a shade lower than the parapet wall: this little involuntary working of the conservative principle, however, was speedily succeeded by an energetic display of its opposite, as by an active rebound up I started, presented my gun, and dropped shots—one, two—quick as thought, into the spot from which the cloud of smoke had yet hardly disappeared;—how many I killed, I can’t say. Augustus also fired; and immediately, as if roused by our daring, a numerous band of some 200 or 300 dacoits, as ill-looking a set of fellows as I ever beheld, armed with swords, spears, and a rusty matchlock or two swarmed forth from their places of concealment, rushed down upon the house with a frightful yelling, sprung upon the terrace, and endeavoured to force the doors. These, however, though rather fragile, as Indian doors generally are, were sufficient for the moment to resist their efforts. Our garrison replied by loud shouts of defiance, which, with a volley from the guns and matchlocks, sent them, to our astonishment, to the right-about, and they again sought shelter amongst the trees, carrying off two or three wounded. I congratulated Mr. Augustus on their unexpected retreat, expressing a hope that we had seen the last of them, for the disparity of force went far towards diminishing the liveliness of the joke. “Ah!” said my friend, “I would not have you halloo before you’re out of the wood, or draw precipitate conclusions; I know the villains too well; they have plenty of pluck, and are now, depend on it, going to make sure of us in some way attended with less risk to themselves.” We now listened, and soon heard the sound of axes in the wood, followed by the crash of falling bamboos. “What can they now be at?” said I. “I suspect,” replied Augustus, “that they intend to scale the house, and are making ladders of bamboo for the purpose.” Some conversation with the native garrison tended fully to confirm this view of the matter, and 200 or 300 to eight or ten are overwhelming odds. “I fear,” said the planter, “we must beat a parley, unless immediately relieved by De la Chasse or the thannah folks, and make the best terms we can for ourselves, or they will scale the roof, massacre us all in a trice, and then plunder the place. What is your idea of the matter, Gernon?” “Oh,” said I, “I’m for fighting as long as there’s a fair chance; but if there’s none, as I’ve no wish to ‘adorn a tale’ by figuring in a massacre, I vote with you that we give in, provided they grant us an honourable capitulation.” As we were thus speaking, a servant exclaimed that a man was advancing from the wood where the dacoits were carrying on their operations: he was unarmed, and made a sign that he had something to communicate. One of our intelligent burkundauzes hailed and asked him what he wanted.