CHAPTER XV
THE SECRET PASSAGE
WHEN I came to, I found myself lying on the grass of the courtyard, with my friends Granville and Colonel Firestone kneeling by my side.
The former had a blood-stained scarf bound round his head, while Firestone's steel cap bore a dent that was a silent testimony to his valour. It was nearly dark, but there was sufficient light to see that on the ground were several motionless objects that but a few short hours before had been the living defenders of my home.
The assault had failed, but the solitary gun still kept up a steady fire.
"How goes the day?" I asked feebly, for my head was whirling, and my throat parched with thirst. "We hurled them back," replied Ralph. "Chaloner's dead we found his body in the breach. At the last moment, when we thought everything was lost, one of the rebels raised a cry that the breach was mined, and they gave back in confusion."
"And how have we fared?"
"Badly. Nine good men killed, and five sorely wounded. There are not ten men left whole. I fear we cannot withstand another onslaught."
"Then we must make use of the secret passage!" I exclaimed, starting painfully to my feet. "None can say that we have not borne ourselves with honour."