One group of women there was that did not appear. They comprised the women of the governor’s family, who, with the children of the yamen, had taken refuge in one of the larger buildings. They were not required to come out into the open.
“Sir, I think I see figures advancing,” whispered a sailor, gliding up to Ensign Darrin.
In an instant Dave threw up his night glass.
“You’re right,” he answered, in a low tone. “Pass the word to the men at the machine gun to be ready.”
Stepping quickly down the little line on the river side of the wall Dave gave whispered instructions to the men to lie low and to await the order to fire.
Then, motionless as a tree, Darrin stood for fully two minutes, with the glass at his eyes.
“Ready!” he called, at last, in a low, but penetrating voice. “Aim! Fire!”
As the volley crashed out, Danny Grin raced around to the west rampart, to look for signs of a Chinese advance against that side.
Hundreds of Mongols had stolen forward on the river side. Instead of checking these, the brisk American fire brought thousands of others swarming from the streets and buildings.
“Keep that machine gun going,” shouted Darrin in the ear of the machine gun captain. “Make it hot, my men! We want to get as many of the yellow fiends this time as possible. The more bloody they find this charge the more careful they will be through the rest of the night.”