“But ’twas of no effect.  The enemy came on with the more determination, and brought bamboos to scale the walls.  We drove ’em off again, but with frightful loss; twenty-five of our bravest men were killed outright and sixty wounded.  ’Twas there I got my wounds, and ’twould have been all over with me but for that fine fellow Bulger; he turned aside with his hook a slashing blow from a scimitar and gave my assailant his quietus.  Bulger fought like a hero, and the very look of him, black with powder and stained with blood, seemed to drive all the fight out of the Moors that came his way.

“All this time the shots of the Nawab’s cannon annoyed us, not to much harm, for they were most villainously served; their fire arrows did us more mischief, flying into the thick of the crowds of screaming women and children.  It made my heart sick to think of the poor innocent people suffering through the weakness and incompetence and the guilty neglect of our Council.  The heat and the glare, the want of food, the uproar and commotion—­may I never see or hear the like again!

“Yesterday there was a lull in the fighting about midday.  The enemy were still outside the fort, though they had possession of all the houses around.  They showed a flag of truce, whereupon Mr. Holwell writ a letter asking ’em for terms.  But ’twas a trick to deceive us.  While we were resting, waiting the result of the parley, the Moors poured out of their hiding places and swarmed upon the eastern gate of the fort and the pallisadoes on the southwest.  In the interval many of our common men had fallen asleep; some, alas! were drunk, so that we had no force to resist the invaders, who scaled the roof of the godowns on the north wall with the aid of their bamboos and swept over into the fort.

“Most of us Europeans who were left collected in the veranda in front of the barracks—­you know, between the great gate and the southeast bastion.  Scarce a man of us but was wounded.  There we were unmolested, for the enemy, as soon as they burst into our private rooms, made busy with their spoil; and, as it appeared, the Nawab had given orders that we were to be spared.

“At five o’clock he came into the fort in a gay litter and held a durbar in our Council room, Mir Jafar salaaming before him and making fulsome compliments on his great victory.  Then the wretch sent for Mr. Holwell.  We bade him farewell; sure we thought we should never see him more.  But he returned to us presently, and told us the Nawab was vastly enraged at the smallness of the treasure he had found; the stories of the French had led him to expect untold wealth.  Omichand and Krishna Das had been took out of prison, and treated with great affability, and presented by the Nawab with siropas—­robes of honor, a precious token of his favor.  But the Nawab.  Mr. Holwell told us, had promised no harm should befall us.  A guard of five hundred gunmen was set over us with matches lighted, and the sun being now nigh setting, men came with torches, though sure they were not needed, a great part of the factory being in flames, so that indeed we feared we should be suffocated.  But we were shortly afterwards told to go into the barracks, nigh the veranda where we stood.