'You've swung the light off him, though the smoke is too thick to let one see just now. Get it shining down the passage. We must put a stop to that fellow's antics; his bullet as near as possible took my head off. Ah, steady! I can see.'
Yes, he could see. The lamp-light shining into the alley-way was directed upon the ruffian who had just fired; but it showed more than he. It showed a couple of dozen men pressing along behind him, the look on their faces telling plainly that they were determined to rush the barricade. Instantly David gave warning, and levelling his own weapon fired at the pirate who had so recently discharged the pistol; but he did not stop him. The bullet went astray, and striking a man just behind him brought him tumbling to the deck. However, the next proved more successful. The rascal howled with pain, then, as if driven frantic by it, he threw his pistol at the figure which he could only dimly discern above the barricade, and led his comrades forward. For ten whole minutes none of the defenders had so much as a breathing spell. Those four Chinamen at the back of the barricade fought as if they were possessed, and fought too, like Englishmen, in silence. Their knives rose and fell constantly. Now one of them would spring upward, and grabbing an attacker by the shoulder would haul him within reach; now Hung would give vent to a guttural exclamation, at which Dick and his comrades would unconsciously move aside. Then there came the thud of the huge club he wielded, a sickening, dull thud, followed by a heavy fall on the far side of the bales placed across the alley-way. A sudden fusillade from David's magazine pistol drove the assailants out of sight, and allowed the defenders to rest after their exhausting efforts.
'Put the lamp on the top of the bales,' said David at once. 'We must chance a fellow firing at it and smashing it altogether. Hung, post a man up here to watch. I'll go up and report progress, unless, of course, you'd like to, Dick.'
The latter shook his head vigorously, and was about to answer when another voice came from behind them in the alley-way. It was the Professor, jaunty and high-spirited as ever, a silent witness of the late conflict. He stepped from the foot of the ladder, and came towards them, turning the slide of a lantern he carried. And the light reflected from the narrow passage showed up everything distinctly—the dead Chinaman at the foot of the barricade; David on the ladder, and Dick and the other defenders at their posts. It even showed the huge splinter of wood half torn from the ladder by the bullet which had so nearly put an end to the existence of one of the party. And the Professor was as easily seen as any one. There was a bland smile on his clean-shaven face. His eyes sparkled; he laughed outright.
'Please don't move,' he said, coming closer. 'A more perfect picture I never beheld; but I do congratulate you all. You know I hate fighting, and always have done so; but when it's necessary, I can admire the men who show a good front. No need to report, David boy; my own eyes have shown me everything.'
Turning suddenly to the Chinamen, he spoke to them in their own language, which he knew as a native, praising them warmly, and sending the blood flying once more to their cheeks.
'A gallant fight, well organised and generalled,' he said, turning again to Dick. 'Whose idea was the ladder?'
'His,' came the curt answer. 'He fixed everything: David is a born leader.'
'I say!' came indignantly from our hero, who was still perched on his ladder.
'It's true,' came warmly from Dick, for the young fellow had formed a great opinion of David. Secretly he had admired the lad, partly for the courage which he knew he possessed, for had he not been instrumental in saving Dick's mother; and also there was the case of those burglars at Bond Street. But it was not pluck alone that roused his enthusiasm for our hero; it was his grit, his staunchness.