Barclay of the Guides

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER THE THIRD

  Sky-high

  Old Ahsan, the gate-keeper, looked gloomily out of the lattice windowand watched the proceedings of the invaders. He had spied Dilasah, hismaster's nephew, among them, and knew that the incident was more than anordinary raid. Minghal's men gave no sign of any intention to collectthe villagers' property--whether in goods or in animals--and afterwardsburn the village; it was clear that the chief meant either to seize theplace as his own, or to set his henchman Dilasah at the head of it. Andthat Ahsan had rightly guessed was proved when Minghal himself came tothe foot of the tower and summoned all within it to descend and salaamto their new lord Dilasah.

  Ahmed drew the gate-keeper back and put his head out.

  "What dost thou think of us, Minghal Khan?" he cried scornfully. "Are weasses or even as camels? Know that we hold this tower for our rightfullord Rahmut, and thou had best return to thy little dwelling while thereis yet time."

  The Pathan's face darkened with anger.

  "Thou darest mock me, Feringhi dog!" he cried. "Come down at once, or wewill burn thee alive and send thee to the Pit."

  But Ahmed only laughed. Talk of burning was mere foolishness, for thetower was of stone, and though they might burn the door, there wasnothing else inflammable within their reach, save only the barricadewhich had been thrown across the winding stair, and even a Pathan'scourage might shrink from attacking that in face of sturdy defendersarmed with jazails on the stairs. Of this barricade, however, Minghalwas as yet unaware, and his reply to Ahmed's scornful laugh was to sethis men to make an assault upon the door. But they had no soonerapproached it than a matchlock flashed from a narrow slit in the wall,and one of the assailants staggered back with a bullet in his leg.Furious, Minghal shouted to the other men to do his bidding, but anothershot fell among them as they crowded about the door, and since theycould not see who had fired, nor had any chance of hitting if they shotback, they made haste to flee out of harm's way, and Minghal himself sawthat the task he had set them was impossible. The door was of stout andmassive timber, and could not be broken in without a deal of hardbattering; it would be folly to lose lives in that way when his purposemight be achieved by means of a charge of gunpowder. So he called offhis men and bade them search the village for powder, not having broughtmore with him than was contained in his men's powder-flasks.

  At this Ahmed chuckled: all the powder lay in two large bags in one ofthe upper rooms of the tower, whither it had been conveyed at the firstalarm. The men's hunt through the village was fruitless. But Ahsansighed heavily a little later when he saw two leave the village andgallop at a hot pace in the direction of Mandan.

  "Minghal has sent for powder, Ahmed-ji," he said. "Without doubt weshall all be blown up."

  "No, no; they cannot get back before morning," replied Ahmed, "and everyday favours us. Maybe my father will come back earlier than we suppose."

  "And if he does not?"

  "Why, then we must defend ourselves as long as we can. Suppose theybring powder: they cannot lay a charge against the door in the daytime,for we could fire into them and blow them up with their own stuff. Andwhen night comes, the moon will light up the inner wall for some hours,so that they would still be in great danger. And if, when the moon goesto the other side, they contrive to place their charge and blow in thedoor, it will only be to find us with our jazails at the barricade, andthey will never get beyond it."

  Ahmed's cheerfulness inspirited the old gate-keeper and the rest of thegarrison. The women and girls had been conveyed to the upper chambers,and Ahmed at the fall of night went up to them and did what he could toreassure them. Once or twice during the night, after the moon had gonedown, there were sounds from below indicating that another attempt wasto be made on the door; but a shot from the window was sufficient tosend the men scuttering back to the houses, and the hours from midnightto dawn passed undisturbed. The garrison snatched a little sleep, andwere roused by the morning cry of the mullah in the village mosquecalling to the faithful to awake: "Prayer is more than sleep!"

  It was afternoon when the two men who had left the village were seenreturning with three others, their horses loaded with bags, which nodoubt contained gunpowder. They were received with shouts of "Wah! wah!"from their comrades as they entered the gate. Ahmed, watching them withAhsan and others, saw them convey the powder to a lean-to beside thegate-keeper's hut against the wall. There was great cheerfulness amongMinghal's men, who had idled away the day in gambling. Early in themorning Ahmed had seen three of them leave the village in the oppositedirection from Mandan; and going to the top of the tower, he watchedthem ride for some two miles until they reached a hillock whose summitrose a little higher than the tower roof. There they dismounted and ledtheir horses into a thin copse. They did not reappear, and Ahmed guessedthat they had been sent there as an outpost to guard against anysurprise from the sudden return of Rahmut Khan. It was clear thatMinghal was resolved to carry through his design to the uttermost.

  Confident as he was in appearance, Ahmed in reality felt no littleanxiety. The quantity of powder brought into the village by Minghal'smessengers was large enough not merely to blow in the door and thebarricade, but even to make a breach in the tower wall. He knew verywell that if the enemy once forced their way into the tower the case washopeless; for the men he had with him were all well on in years, andwith the fatalism of their race they would regard the first success ofthe enemy as a clear sign of Heaven's favour. It seemed to himimperative that Minghal should be by some means prevented fromsucceeding in any part of his purpose, and as the afternoon wore on hetook counsel with Ahsan, telling him frankly of his anxieties.

  "What you say is true," said the old man; "but how is it possible to doanything? They have the powder--may their graves be defiled!--and whenit is dark we shall not be able to see to take aim at them as they bringit to the door."

  "If we had but one friend in the village! The cowards! And they arefools as well, to desert a chief like my father for one like MinghalKhan. Were there one brave man having any wits among them, he would blowup that powder, and our trouble would be gone."

  Ahsan could only sigh and wish that the chief had not gonehorse-raiding.

  "He is too old for such deeds. 'Tis time he rested and made ready toobey the last call. Hai! and some day, if he continues thus, he willfall into a snare--some calamity will light on him. It may be with himeven as it was with Mir Ismail of Bangash."

  "Why, how was it with him?"

  "He had gone on just such an errand, and he was old, like our masterRahmut. He had cut a hole in the stable of the Malik he had gone to rob,and was in the very act of loosening the horse's halter when he wasdisturbed by a noise. Loh! he made haste to escape by the hole hehimself had made, but being old and stiff, he had but got his head andshoulders out when his legs were caught from behind. Hai! hai! and thenwas he in desperate fear lest he should be dragged back and known by hiscaptors, for he was a famous stealer of horses, and it would havesnapped his heart-strings if they saw him and gloated over his capture.The honour of his family and people would be smirched. Wherefore hecried aloud to his son, who waited outside, bidding him cut off his headrather than let that shame fall upon him. His head being gone, theywould not recognize his trunk."

  "And did his son obey him?" asked Ahmed.

  "He did, and so was the honour of his house saved," replied the old man.

  Ahmed was silent for a minute or two; then he said--

  "Ahsan, think you I could cut a hole in that shed where the powder-bagsare laid?"

  "Hai! How wouldest thou get there?" said the gate-keeper. "Verily not bythe door; were it opened, Minghal's dogs would burst in."

  "True, but could you not let me down over the wall by a rope?"

  "And what then? The gates are shut: there is no entrance."

  "But I know of a place on the other side of the village where there arenotches in the wall, by which I might mount; and, the wall scaled, Icould steal my way to the shed and mayb
e cut a hole and lay a train, andso fire the powder that lies there for our destruction."

  "You could never get over the wall unspied," said the old man; "and ifthey catch you, you are dead."

  "But the place where I can scale the wall will be in darkness when themoon shines on the tower. If it is to be done it must be done before themoon has crept round, for as soon as the tower door is in darkness besure they will set about their purpose."

  Ahmed was deaf to all entreaties, and about an hour before the earliestmoment when the besiegers might be expected to begin their operations,he was let down by a rope from a window overlooking the wall, this sidebeing in deep shadow. Having reached the ground, he stole along at thefoot of the wall until he came to a spot some little distance away wherehe believed the notches to be. They had not been made intentionally, butwere due to the crumbling of the clay of which the wall was made, andhad not been filled up. He found them without difficulty, the outer sideof the wall being at this point partially illuminated, while the innerside, in the shadow of the houses, was dark. Pausing a moment to makesure that all was quiet within, he set his bare foot in the lowestnotch, and, aiding himself with his hands, heaved himself slowly up.

  When his head was just below the top of the wall, he waited again,listening intently for sounds of movement or speech within the village.All was quiet in the immediate neighbourhood, though voices came faintlyto his ear from the direction of the tower. He raised his head andpeered over: nothing was to be seen; then with a final heave he rolledhimself over the top, hung by his hands for a moment or two until hisfeet found a hollow to rest in, and then as quickly as might be made thedescent, dropping the last six feet and alighting noiselessly on hisbare soles.

  A narrow lane ran between the wall and a large barn in which thevillagers' grain was stored. Beyond this was the smithy, the potter'shouse, and one or two more small buildings, so that he could come, withfair security, to within a few feet of the shed where the powder lay.These last few feet of space were not screened, and in crossing them hisrisk would be greatest. Having come to the edge of it, he passed roundthe corner of the building, and saw to his joy that the enemy was hidfrom his view by the projecting shed itself. He stole along by the wall,gained the side of the shed, and without an instant's delay set to workwith a chisel he had brought with him to loosen one of the planks in thewooden side, working with all possible silence. Once the light sound ofa footstep caused him to scurry back to the shadowed lane; but thedisturber, whoever he was, passed in another direction, and Ahmed spedback to finish his work.

  Having removed the plank, he squeezed through into the shed without muchdifficulty, being slim, and groping about soon laid hands on one of thepowder-bags. In this he cut a hole, then laid a train of powder to theopening in the shed wall, lighted the slow match Ahsan had furnished,and, breathing hard, ran like a deer back along the lane. At first hecould not find the spot where he had descended the wall, and feared lestthe explosion should occur before he had regained the tower. Butdiscovering the place at length, he swarmed up, and now in his hasteventured to drop the full height of the wall. He fell on his face, rosein an instant, and scampered back to where the rope still dangled fromthe window. He had but just laid hands on it when there was a deafeningexplosion, followed by a great outcry from the men. When he regained thetop of the tower, he ran with Ahsan and others to a window whence hecould look down upon the scene. The shed was in flames; and he wassurprised to see two or three forms prone on the ground near it. One ofthe men who had been keeping watch told him that several of the enemyhad come to the door of the shed, no doubt to bring out the powder, atthe moment when the explosion took place, and had been hurled to theground by the flying timbers.

  Minghal and Dilasah were raging up and down among their men. They lookedon helplessly while the shed burnt, Minghal crying out that there was atraitor in the village. The street and the open space in front of thetower were crowded with people who had been startled from sleep by theuproar, and Minghal in his fury sent his men among them, to slash andslay. The poor villagers fled away and hid themselves, Ahsan declaringthat they deserved no pity, because they had deserted their rightfulmaster for the invader.

  There was much rejoicing in the tower at the success of Ahmed's boldenterprise. Even the most faint-hearted now took courage. But it wasclear that the enemy had no intention of departing. The failure of theirscheme had made them only the more vindictive. Minghal sent some of hismen for more powder; the rest, keeping well out of gunshot, squattedagainst the walls of the houses, ready to prevent any egress from thetower. It was plain that Minghal meant to make another attempt, and ifhe failed to gain entrance, to starve the defenders out.

  Ahmed did not fear the first, but was greatly troubled at the prospectof a prolonged siege. In the few minutes' grace between his arrival inthe village and the coming of the enemy there had not been time toconvey a large supply of food and water into the tower. The water wasalready running short, and it was necessary to put the inmates on ascanty allowance. With great economy they might make it last for two orthree days; then, unless help came, there would be no choice but tosurrender, or to make an attempt to escape at night by means of therope. Minghal as yet, clearly, had no suspicion that the powder had beenfired by any one from the tower. It might be easy for the men and boysto let themselves down as Ahmed had done, but it would not be so easyfor the women and girls to descend in the same way, and the least soundwould bring the enemy upon them. From the top of the tower during thatday Ahmed cast many an anxious glance in the direction whence his fathermight be expected to return; but there was no sign of him, and indeed,but for some mischance in his expedition, it was hardly likely that hewould be back for several days.

  In the afternoon Minghal's messengers returned with another supply ofpowder. As ill-luck would have it, with the fall of night a thick mistcame down upon the village, obscuring the moon; and under cover of thedarkness the men brought powder to the tower door and fired it. Thedoor, massive as it was, was blown to splinters, and with yells oftriumph the assailants rushed in when the smoke had cleared, confidentthat they were on the point of mastery. But the defenders had had ampletime to prepare for them, and when, ignorant of the barricade, theybegan to rush up the winding stairs, Dilasah being at their head, theywere met with a sharp fusillade, which struck down several of them andsent the rest scuttling away with yells of alarm. Dilasah himself wasamong those who were wounded, and Ahmed from his conning post abovecould dimly see his rival being carried away by two of the men.

  This set-back, while it eased Ahmed's position for the moment, had theeffect of making the enemy still more determined. Hitherto the most partof the men had not been greatly interested in the business. The quarrelwas a personal one of their chief's; for themselves they would have beensatisfied with plundering the village and returning to their own place.Even though Minghal inflamed their racial and religious prejudicesagainst Ahmed as one of the hated Feringhis, they saw little to gain bycapturing or killing him. But now that they had themselves suffered,their warlike instincts and their passion for revenge were aroused; and,moreover, they were nettled by their failure, considering that theyoutnumbered the defenders by at least ten to one.

  The night passed quietly, but evidence of their new spirit was shownnext day. Ahmed, looking from his window, saw signs of great activitybelow, though for a time neither he nor Ahsan nor any other of hiscomrades understood what was afoot. By and by, however, it became clearthat the enemy were busily constructing shields of wood and goat-skinswith which to defend themselves against musket-shots from beyond thebarricade. The work was apparently finished by midday, for the mensquatted in groups on the ground, taking their dinner, and talking withgreat cheerfulness. But when the hours of the afternoon went by withoutthe expected attack, Ahmed concluded that it was put off till night, andfelt that this time it would be pushed home. Defended by their shields,the men could easily bring powder to the base of the barricade, and ifthat was blown away it was only a ques
tion of minutes. It was useless toattempt to disguise from his comrades the great danger in which theystood, especially as they were now reduced to their last pitchers ofwater.

  Now Ahsan made a proposal.

  "'Tis time for you to leave us, Ahmed-ji," he said. "Minghal, that sonof a dog, is bent on seizing you. It matters little about the rest ofus, but you are the apple of the master's eye, and if you are safe, 'tisof little moment what happens to us. We shall become Minghal's men; weshall at least be saved alive. Do you, then, escape by the rope whendarkness falls, and run to the hills, where you may hide until themaster returns; and when you are gone, after a time we will deliverourselves up to Minghal."

  This suggestion was applauded by the other men. They had in truth littleto gain by further resistance. If their lives were spared they wouldonly pass into the service of another chief, and since Minghal's starseemed to be in the ascendant, that was a fate which all expected sooneror later to befall them. But Ahmed was very unwilling thus to throw upthe sponge. Apart from his disinclination to desert his post, he knewhow his father would be cut to the heart at the triumph of his rival,and felt that he himself would be for ever disgraced if this calamityshould come upon the old chief during his absence. Yet he felt theimpossibility of holding out much longer, and was troubled at thethought that all those with him might be killed if he did not yield.

  "I will go apart and think over what you have said," he said to the man,"and I will come again and tell you my thoughts."

  He went to the top of the tower, and leaning over the parapet began toponder the difficult situation in which he found himself. And as he wassadly thinking that there was no other course than to surrender (for torun away and leave his comrades was abhorrent to him), his eye wassuddenly caught by a small dark patch moving on the hillside far awaytowards the British frontier. The sun was behind him, the air was clear,and, gazing at what had attracted his notice, he was not long in comingto the conclusion that the dark shadow on the hill was a body ofhorsemen.

  A great hope sprang up in his mind. It might be Rahmut returning withhis men. True, it might be a band belonging to another chief, or even atroop of British horsemen, or of natives in the British pay. Keen as hiseyes were, it was impossible at this distance--at least twelve miles, ashe judged--to tell who the men were. But they were certainlyapproaching, though very slowly; they were coming from the very quarterwhence his father would return, there was at least a good chance thatthey were friends. He ran down at once to the room where Ahsan and therest were awaiting his return, and told them of what he had seen. Theywent back with him and looked eagerly across the plain. The horsemenappeared to have halted, they were no nearer than when he had seen themlast; none of his comrades was better able than he to identify them.

  "Let us make a beacon here," said one of the men. "If they are our ownpeople they will ride at once to our help; if they are not, we shall benone the worse off."

  "No, no," said old Ahsan; "that would be a foolish thing to do.Minghal's men cannot have spied them yet; we at this height can see manymiles further than they below. And they cannot have been seen by theoutpost on the hillock yonder, for, look! the copse is between them. Letus do nothing to put our enemies on guard. And besides, say we light abeacon, and our master comes riding to our help, Minghal, seeing thefire, would know its meaning, and even though he saw not the master'stroop, he would suspect, and lay an ambush, and the master might bekilled."

  "But how, then, can we bring them to us?" asked Ahmed. "They havehalted, as you see; perhaps they have had a long day's march and aretired. Perhaps they may encamp for the night; and if they do, or even ifthey continue to come slowly towards us, they may arrive too late. Shallwe fire shots?"

  "That is no better than to light a beacon," said Ahsan. "The shots wouldbring them fast enough to us; but as thou knowest, Ahmed-ji, the soundof their riding would be heard while they were yet far away, and theyhave but to come a little nearer to be seen by the outpost. The endwould be the same: Minghal would lie hid in readiness to meet them, andthey would fall into his hands."

  "Yet we must do something," cried Ahmed, "and before it is dark. Whennight comes we shall be attacked and overcome; and my father, when hehears the firing, will come up in haste, and as you say, the sound ofhis riding will be heard; having overcome us, Minghal would have time toprepare to meet him."

  "There is one way, Ahmed-ji," said Ahsan slowly. "One of us must go downthe rope and haste to meet him and give him warning of what has befallenus here. And who better than thyself? Thou art swift of foot and skilledin the secret tracking down of prey: who more fit to undertake thiserrand or more likely to accomplish it?"

  This was perfectly true; but the old man had another motive. There wasstill uncertainty whether the horsemen were friends or foes, and hewished in either case to secure the lad's safety. Ahmed did not seethrough the gate-keeper's design; he knew that, of the company thereassembled, he would have the best chance of success; and so he agreed,as soon as dusk fell, to slip down the rope, make his way round thevillage, and set off towards the distant hill on which the dark patchcould still be seen, stationary.

  It wanted still two hours of dusk when this decision was come to. Duringthat time Ahmed and the gate-keeper talked over the plan, and as theydid so they saw the band of horsemen begin to move once more slowlytowards them. They were at once alive to a danger. The horsemen were atleast twelve miles from the village. At the pace at which they appearedto be riding it would take them four hours to reach the walls. But whenthey had covered half the distance they would come in sight of theoutpost on the hillock; the alarm would be given, and they would arriveonly to fall into a trap. Yet it was impossible to warn them. It wouldbe unsafe for Ahmed to leave the tower until the approach of dark, andby that time the horsemen might have come within view from the hillock.Ahmed waited in great restlessness and anxiety, feeling hishelplessness.

  "'Tis in the hands of Allah," said Ahsan, trying to quiet him. "What isto be will be. But that thou hast Feringhi blood in thee, Ahmed-ji, thouwouldst not be so disturbed. We cannot hasten the dark; we cannot speakthrough the air to warn the master. But look what Allah can do; theyhave halted again."

  And pointing over the parapet, he showed that the dark irregular shadowhad rested a little lower down the hill, upon which lay the glow of thenow setting sun.

  As soon as the dusk was merging towards dark, Ahmed was let down by therope. Ahsan had promised to hold out against any attack that Minghalmight make. Then, creeping stealthily along by the foot of the wall, hecontinued till he came to a place where the ground was broken by anullah, into which he leapt, and ran along its dry bottom at full speeduntil he arrived safely in the hills. By this time it was quite dark;but the moon was just rising, and in a little he was able by its lightto guide his steps so that he did not stumble into a ravine or trip overa salient rock.

  As he came near the place where the outpost was stationed he went verycautiously. The men had taken shelter in a rude shepherd's cairn; he sawthe faint glow of their charcoal fire and heard their voices as heslipped by. Then he pushed on at greater speed, choosing a course inwhich he would never come within sight of the men, however carefullythey might keep watch. At one spot he halted and looked behind, to catcha last glimpse of the tower before he rounded the base of a hill thatwould hide it from view. The moon was shining full upon it, and he hopedthat the enemy would defer their threatened attack, as at the firstattempt, until the door was shrouded in darkness.

  On and on he hastened, for mile after mile, running down the slopeswhere he could, wading brooks, climbing bluffs, doggedly, without rest.When he came to an eminence where he could scan a long stretch of thecomparatively level ground over which the horsemen would come, he lookedeagerly for some sign of them; but though the greyish soil shone whitein the moonlight and the outlines of things were very clear, he failedto descry them, and could not but think that they had encamped for thenight. If it was so, still greater was the necessity for speed, since atany mome
nt the attack on the tower might be begun and the frailbarricade forced or blown up.

  Every now and again he paused for a moment to listen, both for soundsfrom the village behind him and for the hoofs of the horses. In thestill air of the night the crack of musket-shots might well reach him ifthe assault on the tower were begun. But he heard nothing save therustle of falling water or the cry of a jackal, and he went on again,buoyed up by a great hope that he might be in time.

  At length, heated and weary, after breasting a steep knoll he espied, ina well-sheltered hollow far below him, the glow of camp fires. With thecaution habitual in a hill-man he crept down warily; if he shouldblunder on a hostile party the chances of saving the village and warninghis father would be small indeed. Taking cover from bushes and angularprojections of the hillside, he drew nearer and nearer to the camp. Hehad little fear of encountering a sentry, for the Pathans, in somematters highly cautious, are in others equally careless. And thus hecame within earshot of the camp, and, lying flat on his face, peereddown to spy if the men there were or were not his friends.

  Now he was able to see the dark forms of a number of horses tethered totrees beyond the camp, and in the middle of the hollow, around thefires, the shapes of sleeping men. Still he was unable to distinguishthem. He wriggled forward on all fours until he was within a spear-castof them, and then caught sight of the red turban which his father alwayswore. No other man of the tribe wore a turban of that colour; but stillit might be affected by one of another tribe, and Ahmed was not yetsatisfied. So he crept very stealthily round the encampment until hereached the line of horses, and his heart leapt with delight when, onthe very first of the line, he recognized the housings of Rahmut Khan'sfavourite arab. He hesitated no longer, but gave a low hail, and risingto his feet walked down towards the fires. His call, low as it was, hadreached the ears of several of the men and of the chief himself. Theyrose, gripping their long muskets that lay beside them, and as theyrecognized Ahmed, they came forward to meet him, and asked him eagerlythe meaning of this nocturnal visit.

  It did not take him long to explain what had happened. Growling withanger, but breaking off to speak a fond word of approbation to Ahmed,the old chief called to his men to mount their horses. "Bah!" he cried,with a scornful intonation, "we will see if the eagle cannot deal withthe night-hawk."

  The blood of the old warrior was up; Minghal should rue the day when heconceived the folly of setting himself in rivalry to Rahmut Khan.

  The chief was quick to form his plan. The first thing was to guardagainst any alarm among Minghal's men. It was necessary to silence thetwo men of the outpost. This would cause some delay, but it was of thefirst importance that they should neither see nor hear the advancingbody, since by firing their matchlocks they could put their comrades inthe village on the alert.

  It was seven miles from the camp to the outpost. Rahmut durst not ridetowards it with his full body of men, for the clatter of fifty horses'hoofs could not fail to be heard. Yet the case was urgent, for verysoon, perhaps even at this moment, the tower might be assaulted. Delaythere must be, but to lessen it as much as possible Rahmut decided tomuffle the hoofs of three of the horses with strips of blanket, and tosend three of his men with Ahmed to surprise the outpost. Meanwhile hehimself with the rest of his party would ride in a circular course tothe southward, so that they might sweep round the dangerous point atsufficient distance to be out of earshot.

  The muffling was soon done, and the three chosen men set off, Ahmedbeing mounted behind one of them. Following his directions, they cameunerringly to within a short distance of the hillock upon which thescouts were posted. Then they dismounted, and, Ahmed leading the way,they crept round and up so as to come on the men from above. The scoutswere reclining in the cairn behind the fire, still talking in low tones.There was a sudden rush, a cry, a wild scuffle, and then silence.

  Their task accomplished, the four returned to their horses and gallopedacross the country to join the main body, whom they met at the appointedrendezvous, a copse on rising ground some three miles south of thevillage. From that point Rahmut had decided to make the advance on foot,so that the chances of premature discovery by the enemy should bediminished. The moon was sinking in the sky; they could not see thetower from the place where they dismounted; but the favourable momentfor Minghal's intended assault had certainly now come, and Ahmedexpected within a little to hear the sound of firing.

  The whole party, save a few men left to guard the horses, set off at arapid march towards the village. It was possible that as they approachedit a keen look-out might descry them from the tower, but they would beinvisible to any one on a lower level. True, a man perched on the wallmight see them; but Minghal, having posted scouts on a hillockcommanding all the surrounding country for several miles, would belittle likely to take this extra precaution.

  Marching rapidly, the party had come within a few hundred yards of thevillage wall when they heard an explosion, followed by cries and thecrack of muskets. The assault had begun. The gates being shut, it wasonly possible to enter the village by climbing the wall, and Ahmed ledthe band at the double to the spot where he had mounted when he firedthe powder in the shed. Shouts and the sound of firing still came fromthe village; it was clear that a desperate fight was in progress; andsince the din must drown all other noises, Rahmut's troops made noeffort towards silence, but rushed with all speed.

  The place for which Ahmed was making was on the opposite side of thevillage from the tower. Thus it was possible to climb the wall withoutattracting the attention of the enemy. Ahmed was first up; while some ofthe men were following him one by one he ran round to the gate on thechance that it might be left unguarded. He would then throw it open andgive admittance to the rest of his party. But when he came within sightof it he found that a sentry was on guard there. He dared not risk thesound of a scuffle, so he slipped back to his friends and waited untilthe whole party had climbed the wall. Then, drawing his talwar, Rahmutput himself at the head of his men and led them through the streetstowards the tower.

  Their advance was not at first seen, for the villagers, drawn out oftheir houses by the sounds of fighting, had flocked to the neighbourhoodof the tower, and were watching the progress of Minghal's attack. Thebarricade at the foot of the winding stair had been blown up, and afierce contest was now going on. Ahsan and his comrades were making astout resistance, buoyed up by the belief that their chief was coming totheir help; but they were on the point of being overpowered when a greatshout arose from the street, and Rahmut and his men burst through theranks of the onlookers and fell upon the rear of Minghal's force. Thesurprise was complete. The new-comers laid about them doughtily withtheir terrible swords; their enemies fell into a panic, and in a fewminutes the whole crowd, save those who had already fallen, were runningin every direction. Many of them were cut down as they fled. Some madestraight for the gate, which the men stationed there had thrown open atthe first sign of what was happening. Among the fugitives was MinghalKhan. Rahmut had ordered his men to take the rival chief alive, but inthe darkness it was difficult to distinguish one from many, and Minghalmade good his escape with a few of his followers, and fled away into thenight.