Harry and Phra ran off, the glass was obtained, and they made their way to the flagstaffs.
It was wonderfully still, not a breath of air perceptible, and the darkness was intense low down, though above the sky was one glorious encrustation of stars.
For a few moments nothing could be seen, and they stood listening to a peculiar, murmurous sound from away over the great gates, evidently caused by the movement of a large body of men.
The telescope was brought to bear in that direction, but still nothing could be seen, and Harry, who held it, swept it round to the back, where all seemed black too; but suddenly a bright spark darted into the field of vision, then another, and another, and the boy handed the glass to his companion.
"Look right over the corner yonder," he whispered.
Phra adjusted the glass, but before he had time to make out that which had met Harry's eye the latter uttered a sharp ejaculation.
"What is it?" cried Phra.
"The river is alive with boats. They're just coming round the bend where the trees are. They all have lanthorns, and it would be a beautiful sight if they weren't coming to destroy this place."
"Yes, beautiful," said Phra. "We've seen enough. There's a party coming on with torches behind; the enemy are in the front, and they are coming up to land on the water terrace to attack us at the side."
"Come on down," said Harry, drawing a deep breath. "It's going to be a big fight to-night, and we shall have to retreat in here."