Some thirty or forty Baggaras, armed with spears or double-handed swords, remained within the city. With shouts of "Allah it Allah!" they dashed upon the defenders—to slay or to be slain.
Short and fierce was the conflict inside the gate. Many a hauberk-clad man bit the dust under the almost irresistible sweep of those desert-forged weapons; but numbers prevailed, and ere long not one living Arab remained within the city.
Now the archers were free to pour their volleys of deadly arrows through the bars of the portcullis into the surging throng without. Few of the Arabs had brought their cumbersome flintlocks with them, and even these could not be reloaded and fired in the press. Except for a few spears, thrown with terrific force, the Mohammedan fanatics were unable to reply. Galled from the walls, scourged by the arrows from the gateway, they broke and fled.
A hoarse cheer broke from the Croixilian ranks; but the shout of triumph was suddenly stilled by a voice shouting: "To the breach —the Moslems are upon us!"
CHAPTER XV
The Struggle at the Breach
LEAVING two hundred men to guard the gateway in case the Baggaras should rally, Reeves hastened to the breach, whilst Hugh and Gerald were told off to see that the guns mounted on the walls were directed against the Arabs who were devoting their energies to this part of the fortifications. Bringing up the Krupp at this stage of the proceedings would be futile. The correspondent realized, in spite of the fact that he had already loaded and trained the piece, that the manipulation of the time fuses of the shells was for the present beyond him; he must rest content in the knowledge that the enemy could no longer gall the city with impunity. There was still danger, however, and every available man was required to defend the ominous gap in the walls.
By the glare of the enormous wood fires, that had been lighted upon the battlements, Reeves could form some idea of what was going on. Already the Arabs, with their customary fanatical zeal, were throwing themselves upon the knights and archers, who, led by Sir Jehan in person, were performing prodigious acts of valour.
Slowly, yet surely, the Croixilians were being driven back. The knights, hampered for want of sword room, were gripped by the ankles by their ferocious foes, who did not hesitate to toss the bodies of their fellow-tribesmen upon the lanceheads of their mail-clad opponents. The archers, unable to loose their shafts for fear of hitting friend as well as foe in the mêlée, could only join in the conflict with their swords and spears. Groans, curses, and cries of pain, triumph, and dismay rose on the night air, mingling with the sharp clash of steel, or the dull swish of swordcut falling upon hide shield or human flesh.
Drawing his pistol, Reeves forced his way between the ranks of the men who fringed the scene of conflict. Ten shots he fired, quickly, yet deliberately. None missed its mark. This temporarily cleared a path for Sir Jehan and his hauberk-clad men, and the tide of battle changed. Fighting with a superb courage, that even the Croixilians could not help admiring, the foremost of the Arabs were forced back till they were stopped by the press of those behind. Then, with a gigantic spring, the Moslems charged again, and the ebb of the fortunes of Croixilia began once more.