Presently a volley of musketry was fired, and the door was riddled by bullets. Then a number of figures sprang from between the two opposite houses, and rushed at the door. Two of them carried a long, heavy beam.
Two shots flashed out in return, from the hut. One of the men carrying the beam fell, as did an officer who was leading them; but instantly another caught up the end of the timber, and in a moment a crowd were clustered round the door. Several caught hold of the beam, and swung it as though they meant to use it as a battering ram.
Two more puffs of smoke spurted out from the loopholes, and again two of the men fell. The others, however, swung it forward with a crash against the door. The end of the beam went right through the rotten woodwork. Dick and Surajah fired their last musket shots with as deadly effect as before. The next blow dashed the door from its hinges, and, split and shattered by the former shocks, it fell forward into the road, while a yell of triumph broke from the Mysoreans.
This died away, however, when they saw the three crossbars blocking their entrance. Again two pistol shots carried death among them.
"Load your guns, Surajah."
But before Surajah had time to do so, the Mysoreans made a rush at the door. The defenders stepped forward and fired between the crossbars, and then, drawing their tulwars, ran the two men in front through the body. As they dropped, those behind them drew back.
"The last pistols!" Dick shouted, and they fired two shots into the crowd.
This completed the consternation of the enemy. It seemed to them that the defenders possessed an unlimited supply of firearms. Already twelve shots had been fired, and not one had failed to take effect. With a cry of consternation they fled down the street, leaving the ground in front of the fatal door strewn with bodies.