"The roof! the roof!" he groaned. "We must take to the roof."
"By Jove, he's right," cried the colonel. "It's our last hope. Blow out the lights and come on, quick!"
The lamps were out in a second, but a dim glare still shone into the room from the torches outside. With an effort, Sir Arthur staggered to his feet. Two of the soldiers assisted him, and then in great haste they hurried through the hall to a rear room.
The building was of one story, and from this apartment a ladder led to an open trap overhead.
Sir Arthur was pushed up first, followed closely by the rest, and just as Momba brought up the rear and dragged the ladder after him, the great residency doors gave way with a crash, and a wild yell of triumph told only too plainly that the enemy had effected an entrance.
Guy's quick eye observed a big flat stone lying near, a precautionary measure provided by some former governor, no doubt, and, calling on Momba to assist him, he dragged it over the trap.
From below came a rush of footsteps and the sound of smashing furniture as the Arabs hurried to and fro in search of their prey.
"We are safe for the present," said the colonel; "they can't possibly reach us, and they may not even discover where we are."
The roof comprised the whole extent of the building, and was probably thirty feet square. It was surrounded by a stone parapet three feet in height, and from this parapet the little band of fugitives witnessed a scene that none forgot to his dying day.
North and west of the residency the town seemed to be in comparative quiet and darkness, for only stray lights were to be seen at intervals. But off to the south lay the fortifications, and here a sharp conflict was waging.