“Escape?” echoed the other, in astonishment. “Surely your Highness will not signal the commencement of your reign by an act of namby-pamby weakness. Escape, forsooth! Turn every gun you’ve got upon them, and blow them to that hell they are so fond of preaching about!” “You do not gather my meaning, Azi,” the Nana replied, as he viewed the defences through a jewelled opera-glass. “I meant, let them escape from one trap, to fall into another. We could have them cut to pieces when they had got some miles from Cawnpore, and _we_ should escape blame.” “Oh, oh, your Highness--pardon my hastiness. You are an able prince. I could not imagine that you were going to spoil your nature by any stupid, sentimental notions; still, I do not approve of your Highness’s scheme. We should miss too much sport. And why need we concern ourselves about the blame? Let us commence the fun without further delay.” The Nana laughed heartily, as he replied-- “You are somewhat hasty, my friend. Impetuosity is not good. There is refinement in killing, as in all other things. The _acmé_ of torture is suspense. We will torture these British people, Azi. I shall send, however, a message to Wheeler, that I am going to attack his entrenchments.” “But why should your Highness even take this trouble?” “Because we will so far recognise the usages of war as to announce our intention to commence the siege.” In accordance with this determination, a messenger was despatched to the aged General, who did everything that man could do to make the best of his position. Darkness had fallen. It gave the brave hearts behind those mud walls a short respite, but with the return of light the booming of a gun told that the enemy had commenced operations. CHAPTER XXII. THE LION HEARTS. With the booming of that gun, as the terrible day dawned on Cawnpore, there commenced a siege that, for horror and misery, has never been exceeded in the history of the world. It was the month of June. The heat was terrific. The cloudless sky was like a canopy of fire. What little wind there was came like the blast from a glowing furnace. The tubes of the guns grew so hot in the sun’s rays that it was impossible to touch them with the hand. Behind the entrenchments were a heroic band of men--a mere handful--and with them nearly two hundred women and children. It was for the sake of these dear ones that every man braced himself up to fight against those fearful odds, until he fell dead at his post. Not a craven heart beat in any breast there. Every person knew that the case was hopeless--that to hold out was but to prolong the agony. But “surrender” was a word no one would breathe.