Hardly had he asked himself this question when a third shell burst from the breastwork. It was better aimed than the other two. Instead of striking the cliff, it hit the northern wall of the compound, carrying away several yards of the metal parapet, scattering jagged fragments of iron and stone in every direction, then flew over the heads of the garrison and plunged into the earthwork at the southern boundary of the compound, within a few yards of the spot where the sortie party were gathered. Bob was almost at his wits’ end. No defences could withstand a bombardment at such close quarters. None of the garrison had as yet been wounded, but he could see by their cowering attitude and the terror written upon their faces that their courage had been shocked out of them. Only Gur Buksh and the other Sikhs stood immovable at their posts. A few minutes after the report of the gun, the aeroplane again came flying down stream. Lawrence, then, had not landed. Bob was in a maze of bewilderment. But he was suddenly aroused from his stupor by a sharp detonation. It was not the report of a gun. Then there were loud cries and yells from the direction of the enemy, and looking through the loophole he saw a smother of dust above the breastwork. Lawrence had dropped a bomb at last, and again was out of sight. This was to have been the signal for the sortie; but after what had happened Bob felt that it would be sheer madness to lead his men along a stretch of the track commanded by the field guns. He doubted, indeed, whether their courage would face the task. It was only common prudence to wait for a second signal. He could not see what damage the bomb had done; whether it had only temporarily frightened the enemy. But Lawrence would not hesitate to hurl another bomb among them; and believing that, guns or no guns, they must be demoralized if attacked a second time from the air, Bob hastened across the compound, ordered the bridge to be lowered, and went to the twenty men huddling under cover of the wall. [Illustration: LAWRENCE DROPS A BOMB] He allowed no trace of mental perturbation to show itself in his bearing. "The time has come!" he said quietly to the men. "Lawrence Sahib is driving the enemy away. There are no more shots from their gun, you see. We shall soon hear another explosion; then you will follow me, and in five minutes we shall be masters of our breastwork." Ganda Singh, who was among the party, translated his words to the men. The cessation of gun fire and Bob’s confident manner somewhat restored their courage. They formed up, grasping their weapons nervously, and waited in panting eagerness, mingled with trepidation, for the expected signal.