“Is your watch going?” he called to Zoe. “The sailors ought to be here in twenty minutes. Zeko, find out exactly how many cartridges we have left—for six rifles—and we will allot them accordingly. The Lady Zoe will tell us as each five minutes passes. Don’t let the men fire more than one at a time, unless there comes a rush.”
Zeko made his calculation with an impatient grunt, and at Wylie’s orders divided the cartridges into four parts, one for each five minutes, while Zoe crouched with her watch in her hand, feeling that minutes had never moved so slowly before. Divergent counsels appeared to prevail among the enemy in front, for they fired only in a half-hearted sort of way, but those behind, elated by their position, took full advantage of it. It was impossible to lift a head above the parapet without attracting a bullet, and Wylie and the two men in front were exposed to their fire if they changed their place in the slightest. Still, so long as they remained quiet, they could only be hit by accident, and the persevering foes therefore transferred their attention to the breastwork, trying to knock away the stones, and thus leave the defenders shelterless. They succeeded best at the end opposite to that at which Eirene and Zoe were crouching, where the ridge was very steep, but as there was no attack on that side this did no immediate harm. Through the opening thus made there came a sound of distant music, which roused Zoe’s curiosity. Surely the rescuers could not be bringing a band with them? Crawling forward a little, she saw, as if in a stone frame, the advancing column. The officer at the head, in whom she thought she recognised Lieutenant Cotway, was driving before him a Roumi bugler, who was sounding the “Cease fire!” spasmodically with all his might, admonished by frequent reminders from behind. Close at hand walked a midshipman, displaying boldly, even ostentatiously, a large-sized Union Jack, and some five-and-twenty sailors in marching order followed. The slackness of the fire in front was now accounted for, since Lieutenant Cotway had evidently arrived at an explanation of some sort with the Roumis, though its effects were only gradual, but so far the frenzied exertions of the bugler did not seem to have penetrated to the consciousness of the snipers at the back. Even if they did, the column, climbing its painful path, would not come into sight until it had all but reached the top of the hill, and it was only too probable that until the truth was brought home to them by the actual sight of the White Ensign, the enemy would prefer to assure themselves that the bugler was playing tunes for his own delectation.
“Ten minutes!” said Zoe, returning to her place, and Zeko reached eagerly for the third supply of cartridges. As he did so, a bullet struck the heap, and a violent explosion flung him backwards. Three of his fingers were torn off, and he was much scorched, but even in his agony what appealed to him most was the fact that save for two or three cartridges in the magazines of the rifles not yet emptied, the ammunition was gone. Zoe crawled to him to try and tie up his hand, but he waved her away angrily, and did it himself with the other hand and his teeth, then took out his knife and lay down to wait. But there was little prospect now of the enemy’s trying to rush the breastwork, for the sound of the explosion must have told them what had happened, and they were not likely to trust themselves within stabbing distance of the four bruised, scorched men who now alone remained. The front of the sangar had been blown clean out, and the back, which stood on level ground, was now no longer a wall, but a heap, affording next to no shelter. Wylie took possession of the three undischarged rifles, and trained them on one particular point, forbidding the men to fire until he gave the word. Sooner or later the snipers would advance to a height from which they could fire straight down into the place, and unless they could be checked in this, there would be no one left to save when the rescuers arrived. Presently the rifle he held went off, and by the muttered exclamations of joy from the men, Zoe knew that one of the enemy, at any rate, had fallen in the attempt to reach the coveted spot. Then the other two were discharged simultaneously, and Wylie turned savagely upon the culprits, who had wasted two precious cartridges upon one Roumi. All that remained now was one cartridge still in his rifle, and that was soon expended, not so successfully as before, since the Roumi at whom he fired was only wounded.
“Close in now, and shelter the ladies,” he said, and the men obeyed. Wylie thrust his revolver into Zoe’s hand.
“If we are all done for before the sailors get up,” he said, and she understood, and laid it down beside her. The Roumis were on the height now, but they had not got the exact range, and the bullets were dropping beyond the group. Then Zeko sprang up and spun round wildly, made a vain attempt to hurl his knife at the foe, and fell with a horrible crash. Zoe hid her face.
“Oh, do it, do it now!” she entreated of Wylie. “I shall go mad if this goes on.”
“Quiet. Wait!” he said firmly. “I thought I saw—yes, there they are. Here, here!” he shouted, putting his hands to his mouth.
“Where?” cried another voice. “Yes, all right. Cease firing up there, or I fire!”
The firing ceased as if by magic, and Lieutenant Cotway hurried across the piece of open ground, followed by his seamen. Mr Suter, with great presence of mind, wedged the flagstaff into the heap of stones, and held it up straight.
“Only just in time!” said Wylie, getting up.