Alcibiades might be a good commander, but he was a confoundedly bad drill-sergeant, for his men came up the staircase in a singularly disorderly fashion, rushing forward pell-mell, as though they anticipated an easy victory. However, at the sight of the electric light, and the barricade, from which protruded the deadly barrels of the rifles, their impetus received a decided check, and the foremost, recoiling on those in the rear, threw the whole body into confusion. Hesitating thus for a second in bewilderment, they offered a fair mark to the defenders, who, at a given signal by Justinian, poured a heavy fire into the huddled mass of human beings. Some fell dead, many wounded, and the yells of the discomfited assailants vibrated under the vaulted roof of the tunnel, as they retired in disorder. Then the stentorian voice of Alcibiades was heard urging them forward, and with sudden resolution they dashed forward like a wave on a rock, only to retire again before the deadly volley of the Melnosians. The ground was cumbered with the dead and dying, while the air was so thick with gunpowder smoke that it hung like a veil between the contending parties, and not even the powerful rays of the electric light could break through the opaque cloud. As yet, protected by their earthworks, the Melnosians had not lost one man, for the bullets of the enemy passed harmlessly over their heads or buried themselves in the sand and turf. Justinian ordered his men to reserve their fire, as the attacking party were now retreating for the third time in confusion, and therefore, being considerably scattered, did not offer so good a mark as when they rushed forward in a dense mass. Evidently they were holding a consultation, for when they again assaulted the barricade, one party dashed forward under a heavy fire, with hatchets to cut away the timbers, while the others remained behind and kept up a fusillade at a safe distance. In order to avert this danger, and save the palisade from being cut down, the marksmen returned the fire of the rear rank, while, using the bayonets at close quarters, their comrades stabbed the stormers whenever they could get a chance. Notwithstanding this warm reception, the assaulting party still stuck to their work, and amid the infernal din of yells from wounded and fighters, could be heard the steady blows of the hatchets, the sharp crack of the guns, and the ping, ping, ping of the bullets whizzing through the smoky air. At last, in spite of their valor, the stormers were forced to retire, but not without doing considerable damage, for they had cut through a considerable number of the barrier posts, so that the palisade was now in a somewhat shaky condition. “Egad! they’ll have this down in no time, Maurice,” said Justinian to his nephew, with a grim smile, “and then it will be hand-to-hand fighting.”