But the missiles still rained down with an occasional shot, as the rifles were handed up by the natives, while the Doctor and Farquharson kept up an almost continuous fire from the terrace. Then the two last canisters thrown by the Major exploded. The first two had carried havoc among the crowd behind the breach, these completed their confusion, and they turned and fled; while those in the retrenchment, relieved of the pressure from behind, at once turned, and flying through the breach, followed their companions.
A loud cheer broke from the garrison, and the Major looking round saw the Doctor standing by the parapet waving his hat, while Isobel stood beside him looking down at the scene of conflict.
“Lie down, Isobel,” he shouted; “they will be opening fire again directly.”
The girl disappeared, and almost at the same moment the batteries spoke out again, and a crackle of the musketry began from the gardens. The Major turned round. Bathurst was leaning against the wall breathing heavily after his exertions, Forster was coolly wiping his sword on the tunic of one of the fallen Sepoys.
“Are either of you hurt?” he asked.
“I am not hurt to speak of,” Forster said; “I got a rip with a bayonet as I jumped down, but I don't think it is of any consequence.”
“How are you, Bathurst?” the Major repeated. “What on earth possessed you to jump down like that?”
“I don't know, Major; I had to do something, and when you stopped firing I felt it was time for me to do my share.”
“You have done more than your share, I should say,” the Major said; “for they went down like ninepins before you. Now, Wilson, you take one of his hands, and I will take the other, and help him up.”
It needed considerable exertion to get him up, for the reaction had now come, and he was scarce able to stand.