“Let them,” said Bracy. “They will find three bayonets and a sword-point ready for them to fall upon.”
“Yes; and then?” said the Doctor bitterly. “There will be four bodies lying in front of us between our breasts and the men who come on, and so again and again till we have made a rampart of the wretched bodies.”
“Very well in theory, my good patient,” said the Doctor sadly; “but I’m afraid we shall have made part of the breastwork ourselves. These Ghazis not only know how to fight, but they do fight as if there were no such thing as fear.”
“There’s not much of that in British soldiers when they are at bay,” said Bracy proudly. “But it’s of no use to talk, Doctor; we must defend this door to the last, and then retreat into the ward, barricading that next.”
“And after that?”
“There are my quarters: but we must carry the helpless in there first.”
“And lastly?”
“Never mind that,” said Bracy coldly; “let us get through firstly and secondly; a dozen things may happen before then.”
“Hist!” whispered Mrs Gee. “Some one is coming.”
All listened, and heard a swift movement like a hand being passed over the rough door as if feeling for the fastening. Then there were several hard thrusts, and directly after a quick whispering, a scratching as of feet against the wall, and then a slight change in the appearance of the window, the darkness growing a little deeper. In an instant there was the loud rattle of a rifle being thrown out to the full extent of its holder’s arms, the bayonet darting through the narrow slit; there was a savage yell, the dull thud of some one falling, and with a fierce shout of rage two or three of the enemy flung themselves at the door, repeating the act again and again, but without result.