There was a small veranda to the house.  This was wrenched away by main force.  The posts and other parts of the woodwork were carried to the gateway and piled up as rapidly as possible to form a rough barricade.  Scarcely was this task half accomplished when the clanking of weapons was heard in the distance, soon accompanied by the swashing of horses’ hoofs on the drenched soil.

Desmond coolly ordered his men to proceed with the work.  A minute later there was a sharp discharge of musketry, followed by cries, shouts, and the sound of galloping horses.  The villagers scuttled away shrieking.  Immediately afterward Bulger and Toley with their eight men sprang from cover and made a dash for the wall.

“Muskets first!” shouted Desmond.

The muskets were pitched over:  then the men scrambled up, Desmond and his Sepoys assisting them to get across.  Almost the first to drop down into the compound was Bulger, whose hook had proved, not for the first time, of more service than a sound left arm.  Once over himself, he used his hook to haul the Sepoys after him, with many a vigorous “Yo, heave ho!”

“All aboard, sir,” he cried, when the last of the men was within the wall.  “I may be wrong, but I lay my button hook ’tis now all hands to repel boarders; and only two cutlasses among us—­mine and Mr. Toley’s.  What ho, mateys! who cares—­”

Desmond ordered four of his men to post themselves at the barricaded gateway:  the rest he divided into two parties, and stationed behind the wall at each side.  The wall was six feet high—­too high to fire over; but as it was in a somewhat dilapidated condition there was no difficulty in knocking away several loose bricks at intervals, so as to make a rough and ready battlement.  Desmond instructed the men to fire alternately through the embrasures thus made.  As soon as one had fired he was to fall back and reload as fast as possible while another man took his place.  By this device, Desmond hoped to deceive the enemy for a time as to the number of the defenders in the compound.

But it was not to be expected that the enemy could long be kept out, and in the last resort it would be necessary to retreat to the house.  In view of the presence of the ladies this was a step to be avoided if possible.  It might indeed be the wiser course to surrender, for their sakes.  As the thought struck Desmond he called to the Babu, who was keeping watch on the roof.

“Babu,” he said, “ask the ladies to occupy the least exposed room.  Tell them that if the enemy get over the wall I will try to make an arrangement with them, rather than provoke an attack on the house.”

The Babu disappeared.  But a few moments later Phyllis Merriman, wearing the costume of a native lady, came running out.

“Mother bids me say, Mr. Burke,” she said, “on no account let such considerations weigh with you.  She says, fight to the last.  We will risk anything rather than go back to captivity.  You will beat them, Mr. Burke, won’t you?”