That cheer was ill-timed. Hardly had it died away before an answering yell from the north, savage as a war-whoop, chilled the blood in their veins, for it came from inside the courtyard! A scaling-party had made the circuit, and were already beneath the north-western bastion when Dal Singh reached his post. He looked forth, and before he could give the alarm a bullet struck him in the forehead, the single distant report passing unnoticed amid the noise of battle. "Inside the fort, lads!" Lowthian shouted. "All together!" The garrison hastily descended, and, joining forces, charged across the courtyard to escape being cut off. But the rebels were the nearer, and should even one or two of them enter first and bar the door, the garrison was lost. In ten minutes there would be a couple of hundred sepoys inside the courtyard. One rebel was almost in. Ted stopped, flung his musket to his shoulder, and the man toppled over. Four more pandies were close upon his heels. As the leader fell, the hindmost of these, dreading the same fate, looked back over his shoulder. A trifling incident, yet that glance cost him dear, and was worth untold gold to the white-faces in Aurungpore. For as the fellow turned he unconsciously checked his pace, and a lean Rajput, straining every nerve, closed with the faint-hearted traitor before the entrance could be gained. A bayonet-thrust, a scream, and the wretch staggered forward and fell upon his face. But the other three were inside, and so was Karan Singh the Rajput, alone with his back to the door, cut off from his comrades. A barrier of some thirty exultant rebels had thrust themselves in front, and ladders were even now being set up against the walls by the main gate. If the thirty pandies could keep the loyalists at bay for another five minutes they would all be butchered like goats at the Dashera Festival. Then came the clang of steel, as bayonet crossed bayonet; the three officers emptied and reloaded their pistols, and a yard or two was gained. Suddenly Ted dodged to the right, and darted at full speed round the pack of sepoys, as a three-quarter back, smartly fed by the half who has picked up the ball from beneath the feet of the scrummagers, circles round his opponents before they know what has happened. He had caught a glimpse of the plucky Karan Singh maintaining the unequal combat, and the Rajput was sore wounded though one of the pandies had fallen to his bayonet. While still a few strides from the doorway, Ted Russell witnessed the death of the Hindu hero. As one sepoy kept Karan Singh at bay the other managed to reload and let fly, the muzzle barely a foot from the Rajput's breast. The brave man dropped like a log, and his body fell across the threshold. Though they hastily thrust the corpse aside, Ted was upon them before the heavy door could be closed.