“I know it, Graham. You’ll save the women, I’m sure. Ah! what’s that?”
“Fire—fire!” shouted a voice, and a yell of triumph rose from the Ghazis, to be echoed by the seething mob of fanatics outside the gates, who burst forth with their war-cry of “Allah! Allah—uh!”
“We’re done, Graves,” said the Major in an awestricken, whisper. “It’s the fodder-store, and it will attack our quarters soon. It’s all of wood.”
“If it does we shall see how to die fighting,” said the Colonel hoarsely, as a wreath of flame and sparks rolled out of a two-story building at the far end of the court, lighting up the whole place and revealing all the horrors of the scene.
Chapter Twenty.
Non-Combatants.
Meanwhile, completely cut off by the enemy from the rest of the garrison, the occupants of the hospital made such preparations as they could to strengthen their defences. Little enough they were, consisting as they did of three or four pieces of wood placed like stays from the floor to the cross-pieces of the roughly-made door; and when it was done the Doctor said sadly:
“It’s of no use. If they come with a rush they will drive that in as if it were so much cardboard.”