“No, no, Mr Anderson,” cried Murray excitedly; “leave it all to us, sir. The enemy are coming on again, and there is no time to make fresh preparations.”
“Ahoy, there, Mr Murray! Now’s your time!”
“Off with you, my lad, and Heaven help you!” groaned the lieutenant. “Roberts, we must bear our lot, and be satisfied with our defenders.”
Murray was already through the door which separated the two rooms, to find the men waiting, as ready and eager as if not one amongst them had been wounded.
“Are they very near?” asked Murray excitedly.
“Quite nigh enough, sir,” growled the man who was hugging one keg, another able-seaman holding another, while the black grasped a couple of the extemporised shells.
“No, no, Caesar,” said Murray sharply. “Put those down here; they are for throwing. You lead the way out through the lower door along the path the enemy will come.”
“Yes sah. You come too?” cried the black.
“Yes; quick! Off with you!”
The man hurried down the staircase, followed by the two sailors, whose comrades had received their orders to stand fast at the upper window to cover the engineering party. The door was thrown open, and Murray led the way out into the darkness, Caesar holding his hand tightly.