“It’s of no use to try and hold this place longer, Doctor,” he said, bringing now to bear his military knowledge. “We have to bear the full rush of these men.”
“But it’s like giving up to them,” panted the Doctor.
“Never mind; let’s retire into the ward. You see, the door is at right-angles to this, and when they press in they can only fill this little place, and we shall have to contend with four or five instead of fifty.”
“That’s good talk,” said the Doctor. “I’m not a soldier. Very well, then, back in, and I’ll cover you.”
“No; you retire with the nurse and Gedge, and I will hold them at bay till you get in. Make the men present their bayonets as soon as we are in. Just give the word, and they will know. It will check the wretches while we try to get the door closed.”
“No,” cried the Sergeant’s wife through her teeth. “Bill Gedge and I will keep them off till you are in and tell us to fall back.”
“Right,” said the Doctor; “don’t stop to parley, Bracy, my lad. Ah, what does that mean?” he cried sharply, for Mrs Gee and Gedge both thrust and then thrust again.
“Means a roosh, gentlemen,” said Gedge hoarsely. “In with you; we can’t hold ’em back any longer.”
“Back in,” said Bracy hoarsely. “We must do it, Doctor; they’re mad for our blood.”
The Doctor stepped through the inner door, and Bracy followed.