"I know it well," she admitted, "and I know you are right; but it is horrible, horrible to think of, and it is our fault. If we were not here you men could rescue them. That seems so hard." "Listen!" said Leigh. "I think I hear the sound of firing again. It is very faint." Everyone listened intently, and Ethel could hear the ticking of her watch. She was the first to break the silence. "I think I hear it. The sound comes from inside the fort." She had hardly spoken the words when the roar of a tremendous explosion filled their ears and almost deafened them. The house shook, and a column of dense smoke rose where the fort had been. They looked at one another with blanched faces and then at the ruin in front. That portion of the fort which contained the magazine was demolished, and some buildings that had partially obstructed their view were dismantled or levelled with the ground. Streams of natives rushed to and fro in wild confusion, shrieking with pain and fear. Masses of timber and masonry fell around, killing numbers in the closely-packed streets, and the scene was one of destruction and desolation. Major Munro clapped his hand to his thigh; his face glowed with admiration and enthusiasm. "Lowthian's done that!" he exclaimed. "He's saved the arsenal from their clutches.----Gallant fellows!" "But what of Ted Russell?" Ethel breathlessly asked. "And of Lieutenant Lowthian and the others?" she added as an afterthought. Munro hesitated before replying. "I'm afraid there's little hope for them, my dear Ethel; though they do say that those nearest sometimes escape better than others farther away." This was also an afterthought, added from a weak desire to cheer. The girl turned away her head to hide her emotion and returned to her father's room. In awed whispers the men discussed the glorious act, and various conjectures were hazarded as to the manner of its doing and the possibility of their comrades' escape. Away in the west the sun had just vanished below the horizon and darkness set in swiftly. The vicinity of the Commissioner's house seemed deserted, and no fresh attack was made that night. Evidently that bloodthirsty crew was awed and its ardour damped by the appalling vengeance taken by the unbeaten handful. Scores had been killed, and yet more injured, by the force of the explosion. They had been taught the lesson that it does not pay to push white men too far, and Munro felt assured that for that night at least the house was safe. Yet he neglected no precaution, and guards were set on every side, whilst the remainder of the garrison were ordered to rest whether they wished to or not. Few could sleep, try as they would, and a loud challenge by one of the sentries at the rear brought men and women flocking to the scene, ready for the fray.