Above the excited hubbub of the besieging crowd in front could be heard a swelling roar that became more distinct with each moment. The significance of the sound was unmistakable. Another reinforcement was approaching, and in fear lest the assailants who had been beaten off were returning to attack us from the rear we ran back to the fence. All was quiet in that direction, and the hostile sounds now came so plainly from the front that I doubled speed to the threatened quarter just as a scattering crackle of pistol-shots punctuated the inarticulate language of the mob, and a volley of stones hurtled against the house with the explosive tinkle of breaking windows. I reached the front yard just as another volley took out every window that faced the street, and saw that a concerted rush was being made against the place. A body of men was being pushed up the steps between the flanking walls by the pressure of the mob behind, and immediately before me--at the side of the garden--two young men were mounting the wall on the shoulders of their companions, the vanguard of a flank attack that would capture the place if they once got a foothold. I fired a shot at one, who disappeared with a surprising suddenness, and then bethinking myself of the unwisdom of wasting bullets, I ran forward and brought down my revolver on the head of the other invader. He had just got his knee on the railing, but he went down the eight-foot drop with a yell of pain and a torrent of bad language. At the same moment the men who were defending the steps threw the assailing column into confusion by a fortunate volley, and the attack gave back. A score of answering shots came from the mob, and a bullet whistled so close to my ear that I clapped my hand to the spot with the thought that a piece had been taken off. The agreeable disappointment of finding that I was mistaken was overshadowed a moment later by the discovery that the wall at the farther side of the garden had been scaled by a dozen of the mob, and that others were clambering up in their path. "Look out there on your right, Andrews!" I cried, hastening to join the company. "They are on the terrace." Before I reached the steps the dozen had increased to a score, and it looked as though we were to be overwhelmed by numbers. For an instant it seemed that our best chance lay in retreating into the house in the hope that it would serve as a fortress until the police arrived. But as the house was only a wooden structure, and it was the expressed purpose of the mob to burn us out, I felt it was to be regarded as the last resort of resistance. "Shoot them down!" I cried. "Not much chance," said Andrews as I reached him. "We’re down to our last cartridges." This was a sickening bit of information, but it assured me that prompt action was of the last importance. I took one of my men by the shoulder and pushed him over toward the position I had just left.