was obliged to scrape the hose with his finger-nails; then the powder exploded, and with a mighty crash, heard above the roaring of the guns and the noise of the storm, down, amid a column of black smoke, came huge masses of timber and masonry in dire confusion. In rushed Dennie at the head of the stormers, and after him pressed Sale with the main column. The resistance, though short, was stubborn. The breach was still so narrow that entrance was difficult and slow. Dennie had won his way inside, but between him and Sale a strong party of the garrison had made their way to the gate. The Brigadier himself was cut down, but after a desperate struggle regained his feet, cleaving his opponent to the chin. The supports, under Colonel Croker, pushed forward manfully, and as the day broke the colours of the 13th and 17th Regiments were flung out to the morning breeze on the ramparts of the Afghans' strongest fort. Ghuznee was ours, with a loss of 17 killed and 165 wounded, of whom 18 were officers. The loss of the garrison was never accurately known. Upwards of 500 were buried by our men, and many more were supposed to have fallen beyond the walls under the sabres of our cavalry; 1600 prisoners were taken, and large stores of grain and flour proved a welcome addition to the value of the prize. With the fall of Ghuznee fell the hopes of Dost Mahomed. Within little more than twenty-four hours the news had reached him, and his brother, Jubbar Khan, was forthwith despatched to the English camp, proffering submission to Soojah, but claiming for his brother the office of Vizier, which had come to be considered a sort of hereditary appanage of the Barukzye clan. The offer was declined, and what Kaye calls the "mockery" of an honourable asylum in the British dominions suggested in its stead. With an indignant refusal the envoy returned to his brother, and Dost Mahomed then resolved on one last attempt. He moved out from the capital, designing to take up his ground at Maidan, a well-chosen spot on the Cabul river. But when he had reached Urgundeh, he saw too clearly that the game was up. Hadji Khan, a man in whom he had placed peculiar reliance, had gone over to the enemy; the Kuzzilbashes were leaving him fast. With the Koran in his hand, he rode among his troops. "You have eaten my salt," he said, "these thirteen years. If, as is too plain, you are resolved to seek a new master, grant me but one favour in requital for that long period of maintenance and kindness--enable me to die with honour. Stand by the brother of Futteh Khan while he executes one last charge against the cavalry of these Feringhee dogs; in that onset he will fall; then go and make your own terms with Shah Soojah." The appeal was in vain. Dismissing all of his followers who were minded to purchase safety by bowing to the new allegiance, he turned his horse's head, and rode towards the Hindoo-Koosh.