Hardly the place or time this for quiet meditation, for the weighing of pros and cons. One of the watchers signalled that the pandies had again lost patience, and to confirm his words the heavy fusillade recommenced, and the ensign ceased to ponder and began to act. The rebels had now got the range with deadly accuracy, and unless he courted death, none of the garrison dared return the fire. Our hero did make one such attempt, and reduced the number of one of the battering-crews. But before he could get in a second shot the muzzle of his musket was struck and dented, and a bullet whistled through his hair, grazing the skin. He crouched down and put his hand to his head, fearing he was done for. A soft thud and rattle beside him announced the fall of a sepoy who had followed the rash example with fatal courage. Forgetting his own wound the ensign knelt beside the Rajput and raised his head. The poor fellow still breathed but was going fast, and a shudder ran through the boy as the man died in his arms, true to the end. "Are you hurt?" Tynan asked. "I'm not quite sure. I don't think so." "Let me see. Oh, it's only a scratch." The sepoys in the room above, less hampered by the rebel fire, were answering back to some purpose until they too were silenced, one of their number being mortally wounded. A crash against the stout door seemed to shake the house, and before the vibration ceased another bang was heard. Englishmen and Rajputs were firing hastily whenever an opportunity occurred, but the pandies now held the upper hand. A splintering noise followed the next crash. "What can we do, Russell? What can we do?" Tynan cried. "They'll be in in a moment!" Backed by the strength of half a dozen men the logs crashed once more against the barrier, and the hearts of the garrison were heavy as lead. "We're not done for yet," Ted stoutly replied. "We must wait for them in the passage. We may yet hold the passage, Ambar Singh; and should we die, men will speak of your deeds from generation to generation." "We can hold them back for a time, sahib. Come, my children, and thou, Bisesar Rai, and thou, Dwarika Rai, load and pass us the muskets as we lie in the doorway."