"Here, Phra, I'm getting fidgety," whispered Harry. "The rebels must have seen those torches flashing about, and perhaps they're crawling up in the darkness."
"Yes, I'm afraid they will be," replied Phra. "How long he is!"
"Yes, and it makes my wound throb."
"Your wound?"
"Yes, I don't know why, but it does. I say, you up at the windows, be on the look out, please, and ready to fire."
"All ready," said a voice; "but you'd better make haste with the work, in case the enemy should be coming up."
"Yes, yes. Hi! Sree, can't you get that wood to burn?"
"Not yet, Sahib; but it soon will."
"Where's Lahn?" cried Harry.
"I'm here, Sahib."