And now, while the brilliant stars were dimmed by bursting shells and rockets hissing in glowing curves across the sky, the columns moved forward.
English, Scotch, Irish and Welsh—swarthy Pathans, bearded Sikhs, dapper little Ghoorkahs—marched side by side, from the first column on the left, commanded by Nicholson, to the fourth, on the extreme right, led by Reid.
The plan of attack was daring and soldier-like. John Nicholson, ever claiming the post of utmost danger, elected to hurl his men across the breach made by the big guns in the Cashmere Bastion, the strongest of the many strong positions held by the enemy. The second column, under Brigadier Jones, was to storm the second breach in the walls at the Water Bastion. The third, headed by Colonel Campbell, was to pass through the Cashmere Gate when the gallant six who had promised to blow open the gate itself had accomplished their task, while the fourth column, under Major Reid, undertook to clear the suburbs of Kishengunge and Pahadunpore and force its way into the city by way of the Lahore Gate.
Brigadier Longfield, commanding the reserve, had to follow and support Nicholson. Generally speaking, if each separate attack made good its objective, the different columns were to line up along the walls, form posts, and combine for the bombardment and escalade of the fortress-palace. Nicholson, who directed the assault, had not forgotten the half-implied bargain made between Malcolm and the Princess Roshinara. Strict orders were given that the King and members of the royal family were to be taken prisoners if possible. As for Akhab Khan and other leaders of rebel brigades, it was impossible to distinguish them among so many. Not even Nicholson could ask his men to be generous in giving quarter, when nine out of every ten mutineers they encountered were less soldiers than slayers of women and children.
At last, in the darkness, the columns reached their allotted stations and halted. The engineers, carrying ladders, crept to the front.
Nicholson placed a hand on Jones’s shoulder.
“Are you ready?” he asked, with the quiet confidence in the success of his self-imposed mission that caused all men to trust in him implicitly.
“Yes,” answered Jones.
Nicholson turned to Malcolm and two others of his aides.
“Tell the gunners to cease fire,” he said.