FOR LIFE
It is needless to try and describe the meeting between Doctor Cameron
and his wife and friends, or that between Phra and his father, the
King. They were brief enough, and at a time when any moment they might
be called upon to take a final farewell, for the state of affairs was
very desperate in the palace, whose defenders were getting worn out by
the constantly recurring attacks. The coming then of the
reinforcement, trifling as it seemed, was hailed with the most intense
satisfaction, giving as it did fresh hope to the defenders when they
were beginning to despair.
For the palace, with its extended walls, was too big for so small a
garrison to defend.
In all there were not more than sixty people fit to bear arms, forty
being the white colonists, the remaining twenty officers and nobles
who had remained faithful to the King, and who had proved that they
were ready to lay down their lives in his defence and that of the
ladies who had been brought into the palace when the revolution first
broke out.
Ten minutes after the reinforcements had reached the group of
defenders another attack was made; and now from the interior the boys
had a view of the way in which the enemy was made to suffer.
For the King had cast aside all his quiet, studious ways, and was
fighting side by side with his defenders. It was he who had prepared
the light grenades by mixing up certain proportions of nitre, sulphur,
and antimony, ramming the powder into small vases, which one or other
of the gentlemen lit, and then hurled over the gate, throwing the
enemy into confusion and giving the little party of marksmen behind a
barricade that had been thrown up, a good opportunity for inflicting
loss upon the enemy who were thus time after time kept at bay and
disheartened, when a combined attack must have been fatal to the
defenders of the palace.
And now as the two boys watched the firing, they realized more fully
how weak were the defences, and how easily the hundreds upon hundreds
of rebels swarming outside might have carried them by a brave attack,
when, unless they had been able to make a stand in the wing of the
palace, the besieged must have been crushed by weight of numbers.
Harry had noticed this, inexperienced as he was; but it was further
impressed upon him by a whisper from Phra, who stood by him, double
gun in hand.
"If their leader were to make one bold attack, Hal, we should be
driven inside, and then I'm afraid it would be all over."
"There are a good many of them," said Harry evasively, "and it doesn't
seem nice shooting at people as if they were tigers."
"They are tigers," said Phra fiercely. "They would kill us all."
"Then we must treat them as tigers," said Harry coolly, "and shoot all
we can. Look here, the numbers are not so bad as they appear, because
one Englishman is as good as ten such fighting men as these, to put it
modestly; and you and your father and some of these here are half
English now; so we're stronger than we seem. I say, I don't feel as if
I want to know, it's so horrible; but I feel as if I ought to."
"To know what?"
"When the wretches burned the bungalow, did they--"
"Look out!" panted Phra; "they're coming on to break down the gates."
Phra was right, for by the light of the paper lanthorns, swinging on
high at the tops of spears, a dense crowd of the enemy could be dimly
seen surging up towards the opening with a dull, hoarse roar; and a
sharp order or two was given by some one who seemed to be in command.
There was an order too given on the defenders' side, and as the foe
reached the gates and planted rough ladders there to climb up--this
being the first time they had been so daring in their attack, those
before having been confined to thrusting and throwing spears--a single
shot rang out, and then another. These were followed by a volley from
about a dozen pieces, but the assailants were not checked. Several
fell, but the others came on desperately, and in obedience to a word
from Sree the spearmen just brought in marched forward to stand close
behind the people firing, and about a dozen more drawn up by the
palace joined them.
_Crash!_
Another volley, the bullets for the most part passing through the open
work of the gates; but still the enemy swarmed on.
Just then a dark figure ran back to where the boys stood, gun in hand,
ready to fire.
"Hal! Phra!" was whispered hoarsely; "if they get through and we are
driven back, don't wait to resist, but rush into one of the rooms at
once and fire through the open windows. We are all going to retreat
there."
"Where is my father?" whispered Phra excitedly.
"I don't know; I have not seen him for the last few minutes."
"Ah! here he comes," cried Phra.
"Stand away, boy!" cried the King excitedly, as he ran down the steps
from the palace entrance, bearing something in each hand spitting and
sparkling like a firework.
Phra gave way at his father's command, but rushed after him to be
ready to defend him from injury; and, as if from a natural instinct,
Harry followed to defend his comrade, till they saw the King stop in
front of the gates, over which many of the enemy were climbing, some
to reach the ground unhurt, others to fall, shot down.
As the King stopped there seemed to be a sea of fire about his head,
as he whirled one of the sparkling objects round; then it passed from
his hand, formed a tiny arc as it flew over the gate, and fell amongst
the crowd beyond.
Another volley was fired now; but hardly had the flashes of the pieces
darted from the muzzles of the guns before the second fuze, sparkling
brightly, flew from the King's hand, forming another arc of
scintillating light as it cleared the gates and would have fallen
twenty feet or so beyond, but ere it reached the ground there was a
blinding flash, a tremendous concussion, which drove the boys back,
and a terrific roar.
For a few moments there was dead silence, and then from the spot where
the first missile had fallen, apparently without effect, there was
another roar, followed by a rush of feet, cries, and groans, while
from within there were fierce yells and warlike shouts, mingled with
the clashing of spears, as about twenty of the enemy, who had
succeeded in getting over, made a rush.
They were met, though, by the spearmen who had formed up to defend the
firing party, and a desperate conflict ensued, not a man surviving the
fierce defenders now freshly come upon the scene.
A few groans, and the scuffling sound of men on the other side of the
gate crawling or being helped away, was now all that could be heard
save the peculiar murmur and tramp of the huge crowd of retiring men,
startled and checked for the time being by the new weapons of defence
which they had encountered for the first time.
It was a respite, and after leaving a sufficient guard at the gate and
others on the wall, to give warning of another advance, the defenders
crowded up to the terrace steps, all talking together and
congratulating the King on what he had done.
"Go in, half of you at a time, gentlemen, and eat and drink. This has
only checked them for the present."
"Oh, they won't come back to-night, sir, surely?" cried a voice Harry
knew to be the doctor's, though it seemed strangely altered, so full
was it of exultation now. "But what were they--shells?"
"Only a couple of canisters of powder," replied the King. "It was a
thought I had. I made a hole in each, and thrust in a roll of
touch-paper."
"But, my dear sir, suppose they had exploded before they left your
hands?" cried the doctor excitedly.
"Ah, then," said the King quietly, "then, Doctor--yes, it would have
been bad. I'm afraid I should have been beyond your power to cure. But
you must be worn out, Doctor," he added; "pray go in and get some
refreshments. You will find the ladies have everything ready in the
lower room."
"Thanks, sir, no," said the doctor abruptly; "my mind's at rest now,
and I want to work. Where are the wounded being placed?"
"In my son's rooms, Doctor. Thank you. You are right; but make some
one bring you coffee and whatever you require."
"Oh, yes, sir, I'll take care," cried the doctor, and he hurried in,
while the King turned to Mr. Kenyon.
"Ah, now I can speak with you, my friend," he said. "No, no, my boys,
you need not go," he added, as Phra and Harry were drawing back. "It
is sad work for you, but it is forced upon me. Now, Kenyon, you are
fresh, and I want your advice; you know how difficult a place this is
to defend. What do you say? Ought we not to retire into this part of
the palace now and defend ourselves from there? I have had every
window boarded up; we have plenty of ammunition, and the place is well
provisioned. There is water too. What do you think?"
"I am not a soldier, sir," said Mr. Kenyon gravely.
"No, but you are my friend, and it is a relief to hear your voice.
Speak."
"I may say things that you, sir, would not like."
"They will be the words of the man I have known and trusted these many
years," said the King--"the man I trust to be a second father to my
boy here if I fall."
"Then for his sake, sir, I should say--I do not know that I am right,
but I speak as I think at the moment--would it not be better to seize
the opportunity of retreating now that the enemy have been checked for
the present?"
"No, Kenyon," said the King firmly; "I have thought of that, but
everything is against it. I dislike this bloodshed, though the men who
fall are my cruel enemies who are thirsting for our blood; but I am
king here, and when I die, my son must be king in my place. I have
done nothing but good for my people, and because they have been raised
against me by treacherous foes, I will not be coward enough to go."
"Your situation is desperate, sir, and there are all my friends here,
who, trusting to my advice and to your promises, are now in terrible
peril."
"It is that, Kenyon, which makes me firmer and more determined to
stay. Think, my friend; suppose I say we will retreat. There is the
jungle, into which we must take the delicate women. There are
elephants enough to bear them all. What about food, and how could we
defend them there? We should all be killed."
"Yes," said Mr. Kenyon; "but the river?"
"The enemy is master there, and has all the boats. But even if we had
two, we should be at a terrible disadvantage, and could only try to
reach some foreign ship. But they would beat us there. No, we want
strong walls to fight behind."
"You are right, sir," said Mr. Kenyon; "but I would not retreat inside
after what has taken place to-night."
"We are wearied out with fighting," said the King sadly.
"But the enemy is dispirited to-night, and I venture to think that
they will not attack again till morning. Better let us who have come
freshly try to strengthen the defences by the gate."
"Nothing can be done there; better strengthen this part of the palace.
There are weak places yet."
"Very well, sir; we will do that; and to-night we will watch while you
and the others rest. It seems to me too that the powder canisters
produced more effect than the firing of all our friends. Why should we
not make a mine?"
"A mine? I do not understand."
"A hollow somewhere in front of the gate, say a dozen yards away;
charge it with a small keg of powder, and I think I can contrive a
plan for firing it by means of a wire laid underground. The keg, too,
will be covered, and the enemy will not know. It would produce a
terrible effect when they crowded up to the next attack. The idea is
horrible, but it is in defence of all."
"It would be ten times as horrible for us to fall, and the poor women
to be brutally massacred by these mad wretches. Can you do this,
Kenyon?"
"I can, sir. I will do it in two places, so that if one fails the
other will be sure."
"Hah!" ejaculated the King. "Kenyon, old friend, you make me feel
strong again, and as if you and the boys have brought me hope in my
hour of despair."