With yells of triumph the myriad enemy pushed forward, but not to victory. Major Reid's voice rang out clear, keeping his men together, and with a cheer the gallant fellows responded. The riflemen closed up, shoulder to shoulder, and, first pouring a withering fire into the mass, dashed forward with the bayonet, followed by the Guides, who also used that best of weapons. The little Nepalese, throwing down musket and bayonet, drew their razor-edged kukris and plunged into the thick of their opponents, hewing them down and scattering them on every side by the fury of their charge. The foe gave ground and the crisis had passed. The officers cheered, the men responded, and again a bayonet and kukri charge drove the pandies farther back. Then the Rifles and Guides, kneeling down, sent volley after volley into the mass of wavering sepoys, and followed up their advantage by again charging home, and the danger was passed. But the enemy, though disheartened, were not routed; the conflict still raged fast and furious. The rebel guns, which had ceased firing during the hand-to-hand fighting, again gave tongue with deadly effect. Taking advantage of the diversion thus created, the plucky sepoys made a last desperate effort to fulfil their vow, only to receive further punishment. As the sun went down and the light faded, the rebels lost heart and retired, discouraged and cowed, to the shelter of their walls, hastened on the way by the bullets which dropped amongst them. Everywhere had the attack failed, both on the Ridge and below. But though a severe blow had been dealt to the mutineers, too many of our own had been slain; for the sepoys in Delhi could better spare a thousand men than could the army before Delhi afford to lose fourscore. To resist an attack was one thing; to storm the city successfully would be quite another. When Ensign Russell came to himself he was back in the Mahratta's mansion, his brother and cousin by his side as the doctor examined him. "Thank God that you've a thick head, young man," observed that official; and turning to the others he added, "He'll be all right in a few days." "What's the matter?" asked the boy. His head was ringing and singing, and he felt sick. "Crack on the head with the butt-end, Teddy," answered Charlie. "It knocked you senseless, and Goria Thapia carried you out of danger. Good job you've got the Russell skull. I expect the musket was smashed to bits! Without joking, old boy, you've had a narrow escape." "What's the matter with my cheek--it's stinging frightfully?" asked Ted. "Your cheek?" replied Jim, laughing. "Oh, nothing's the matter with that! It's as big and fine and well-developed as usual." Jim then placed his hand on his brother's brow. "A sword or bayonet has just grazed your cheek, Ted, old man, and taken the skin off. It will be painful, but you'll hardly feel it in a week's time. Now, go to sleep." "But how did the fight go after I was dropped, Jim? Was Merban Sing killed?"