Chapter Nineteen.
Ghazis and Cunning.
As Bracy, closely followed by Gedge, made for the door, the noise and confusion in the darkness were horrible. There were nearly a score of sick and wounded in the two rows of beds, some of whom were groaning and appealing for help; but the majority were making brave efforts to get on some clothes, and one man was shouting for the nurse to go to the armoury and bring as many rifles and bayonets as she could carry. But there was no answer to their appeals, as Bracy, tottering at first, but growing stronger as he passed between the two rows of beds, struggled for the door at the end, and passed through into a little lobby, from which another door led at once into the court, a mere slit of a window at the side admitting a few faint rays of light.
“Ha!” ejaculated Bracy in a tone of thankfulness. “The door’s fast, Gedge, lad, and we must defend it to the last. We can do no good outside.”
“Who’s this?” cried a harsh, sharp voice. “Bracy, my dear boy, you here?” cried the Doctor almost simultaneously.
“Nurse!—Doctor!” panted the young officer.
“Yes, here we are, my boy, on duty; and bless this woman! she’s as plucky as half-a-dozen men.”
“Nonsense!” said Mrs Gee harshly. “You don’t suppose I was going to stand still and let the wretches massycree my patients—do you, Doctor?”