Then out spake the havildar.
“If we have to die, let us die like men. Fire the train, sahib!”
“Nay, not yet. Our duty is to stand by our post until the last. No man must leave the room, though.”
He lighted a candle and placed it within easy reach, that the flame might be ready on the shortest notice.
“Ha!” whispered Ambar Singh, and there was a reckless note in his voice. “The jackals are cunning. See!”
Round the bend was pushed forward a large sack full of sand, then another; and soon a third filled up the space. As the last was clumsily poked into its place between the others it tottered and overbalanced, and a couple of pandies leant forward to lift it up. Two muskets spat forth flame and the rebels rolled over in a heap, upsetting another sack. Quick as thought, as the sepoys were engaged in pulling their wounded comrades back, Ted ran with light steps down the passage, keeping close to the farther wall, and seizing a sack with either hand, dragged them away before the amazed mutineers had time to fire.
To make doubly sure of his safety Ambar Singh and his men let fly, and the bullets, sweeping across the bend, covered the lad’s return. Amid the cheers of the loyalists the bags were propped in the doorway to serve as a rampart for them, and they began to mock the traitors.
But this triumph could merely put off the evil moment. In another half-hour fresh sand-bags had been brought in, and before long the pandies were in a position to command the doorway. As the news spread that the end was near the mob of sepoys increased, and Ted smiled to himself. He addressed the Rajputs:
“You have done your duty in a manner worthy of your ancestors, and I am going to do mine. Run for your lives!”
“No, Russell, you sha’n’t!” cried Tynan, whose nerve had completely broken down. “I surrender,—Pir Baksh, I surrender!” He tried to snatch the light from his comrade’s hand. Ted covered him with his pistol, and, pointing across the passage, said simply: