"Where is Ted Russell, Major Munro? He's not--surely he has not been murdered!" Munro was agitated, and showed it. "He's in the fort, Ethel; I left Lowthian, Tynan, and Russell with a few sepoys to guard it, and they're being attacked. Listen! I ought not to have left 'em. Leigh," he exclaimed, turning to an officer beside him, "is there nothing to be done? Can we leave those fellows to die? And if the fort is captured there is no escape for us!" Lieutenant Leigh shook his head. "We are helpless, sir. If we make a sortie not one of us would reach the fort, and the women would be left without protectors." Still the rattle of musketry kept up, and the inmates listened with troubled hearts for the firing to cease--the signal of the capture of the fort and the death of its garrison. "It's stopped!" groaned Sir Arthur Fletcher, and a shudder ran through the house. Ethel Woodburn turned pale, shuddered, and gripped the table for support. Ted Russell murdered by those savages! She recalled the ensign's merry looks and honest nature, and realized what a place the boy had won in her heart. Could it be possible that she would never see him again? How terribly cut up Jim would be! Jim! Aye, what of him? If her own trusted, well-tried regiment could so suddenly transform itself into a horde of fiends, what might not have happened to the Guides, that collection of outlaws and robbers? In all probability her lover had already been murdered. Her grief for Ted gave way to a greater anxiety regarding the fate of her betrothed. She walked aimlessly towards the window and looked out upon the distant mob, her thoughts far away from Aurungpore. "Miss Woodburn, for heaven's sake come away from the window!" Sir Arthur Fletcher almost shrieked as he planted himself in front of the girl. "They are not firing now, but--" A bullet crashed through the shattered window, and passing within an inch of the Commissioner's head, flattened itself against the far wall. Ethel awoke and skipped aside, and, seeing that she was safe, Sir Arthur followed suit. She had forgotten her own danger; she had not reflected that, even had the Guides proved true to their salt, nothing seemed less likely than that Jim Russell would ever see her again. She thanked Sir Arthur mechanically, and began to wonder how poor Jim would bear the news of her death. Having no doubt of his great love for her, her grief was more for him than for herself, horrible as the outlook was. Led by Major Munro, the men grimly went on with their work of strengthening the defences of the house, whilst their picked shots replied to the random firing. Suddenly another volley rang out from the direction of the fort; then a second; then the loud irregular firing of the pandies. "They're not done for yet!" Munro cried. "Thank God, there is still a chance!"