"Yes, sir."
"Then don't draw it unless they get over the sandbags," he chuckled, "or
you'll be shooting me."
The marines were up on their knees now, firing over the breast-work. It
was absolute slaughter, but the Chinese showed no sign of slackening.
One of the white men Glover recognized--the man with the black beard.
"Two of you take that black-bearded scoundrel," Williams sang out, "and
two the other white man."
Chinamen fell all around them, but still they came on.
"Take a shot yourself, Williams," Cummins ordered. (Williams was a noted
rifle shot.)
He seized a rifle, rested it on a sand-bag, took careful aim and fired,
loaded, and fired again.
The second European twisted round and fell. As he fell his hat came
off, and Glover recognized, with a funny feeling of regret, that it was
Hopkins. The Chinese following him stopped, came on again, looked back,
half a dozen threw up their arms and fell, and then the others had had
enough of it, could face no more, and, throwing their rifles away, ran
down the hill to the right. The black-bearded man, with fifty or sixty
Chinamen still behind him, got to within fifty yards. The marines began
to cheer, standing up now to fire.
They dwindled to forty, to thirty, and then with a sudden shock Glover
realized that they were actually up to them, and woke to the fact that
men were fighting hand to hand, marines clubbing their rifles and
smiting left and right (they were still outnumbered three to one), and
that the Commander was standing in front of him coolly firing his
revolver.
He suddenly remembered that he had a revolver too, and drew it, but
Cummins seized it and handed him his empty smoking one to reload.
A cheer on the right, and Pattison and his men threw themselves into the
fray; another cheer, and the mighty Saunderson with half of his Red
Marines came charging over; more revolver shots rang out, the Chinese
began to give way, turned tail, and rushed down the slope, the huge
bearded European last of all.
As he bounded back he passed Hopkins's prostrate body, bent down, lifted
him up, and staggered away with him.
"Let him go, men; don't fire at him," shouted Cummins, and he
disappeared into the bushes.