Gil the Gunner - George Manville Fenn (people reading books .TXT) 📗

with such regular motion. The men worked like machines, and as calmly, but our case was becoming desperate. Round after round tore through them, but with fanatical rage the survivors came on, and in another few moments we knew that they would be among us with their keen tulwars and sheltering shield.

But not a man shrank. I knew it was hopeless to think of limbering up, and carrying off the guns; we should have been cut down at once; and rendered desperate by our position, every man at liberty pressed forward to try and defend the gunners, who still toiled on.

“Why don’t the lancers charge again?” I thought, as I thrust savagely at a man who was making a cut at a gunner, and a cold feeling of despair began to attack me, as I thought of mother and sister behind the barricade over our heads, and that Brace’s gallant troop would be utterly cut to pieces, and the guns turned against my father when he advanced.

“Ny Deen will get his wish,” I thought, as I thrust again with all my force and saved the life of the man who was ramming the gun beside me.

“The lancers—where are the lancers?” I thought again; and at that moment a line of men came in among us, and formed a slight hedge of lance-points which darted rapidly out between the gunners whenever one was threatened. Half the men had been dismounted, and while they helped to keep the enemy at bay, a ragged volley suddenly roared above our heads where the brave defenders of the place had collected to give us their little aid.

That volley was so fresh and unexpected that, blazing out as it did, close to the enemy, they fell back for a few moments. Only a few, but long enough to enable the men of one of the most crowded-up guns to send its charge tearing through the foe. Then another spoke, and, with yells of despair, the wave swung back a little. Another volley from the barricade staggered them more, and the fire of the guns increased in regularity, while all at once I found that we had more room; the lancers had been withdrawn. A few more shots into the mass made them waver. “Cease firing!” rang out, and the trampling of horses began once more, as the lancers passed through us, and hurled themselves at full gallop against the crowd.

That finished the attack, for the enemy turned and fled, throwing into disorder reinforcements coming up; and as the lancers retired in single file, right and left, we played round shot between them, and finished the discomfiture of the attacking force, which rolled back into shelter among the houses at the back.

Then, amidst frantic cheers, a portion of the nearest wall was thrown down, and the guns were dragged into the enclosure, the lancers followed into the shelter; and, as a part of our men repaired the breach, and the guns were mounted ready for the next advance, such a scene of weeping, shouting, and embracing took place as is beyond description, and can only be recalled with a choking sensation of the throat.

I looked wildly round for the faces dear to me, but it was some time before I could make them out in the little crowd of haggard ragged ladies who had been obliged to crowd together in a mere cellar, so as to avoid the shot poured into the enclosure night and day.

But there was no time for sorrow or joy. I had hardly embraced those dear to me when there was a cry raised that the enemy were coming on again, and as I was literally obliged to drag myself away from my sister, she, in her faintness from want of food, staggered, and would have fallen, had not an officer suddenly caught her in his arms.

“Thank you, Brace,” I said, as he helped her to the door of the house from whence she had come. “My sister must have suffered horribly.”

“Your sister, Gil!” he said; “that lady? Ah!”

He twisted himself violently round as he uttered a sharp cry, and it was my turn to catch him in my arms as he was falling.

“Not hit?” cried a familiar voice, and Danby hurried up as two of our men helped me to bear our leader to the door through which my sister had just passed; and there, sheltered from the bullets which had now begun to fly fast from a tall building a short distance away, the doctor made a rapid examination.

“Well?” I said excitedly, “is he wounded?”

“Badly,” whispered the doctor, “through the lungs, I’m afraid.”

I could stay to hear no more, as I had to hurry off to the guns, for threatening shouts told me that the enemy were coming on again, and were heralding their approach by a terrific fire prior to the next assault.

Fortunately there was ample shelter for the horses among the buildings, which had been fortified and enclosed by a strong earthwork and barricade under my father’s orders; and here, with the women and children for the most part in the partially underground cellarage of the Residency, the gallant little garrison had still held out after Brooke’s departure, in spite of their thirst, and the constant harassing attacks kept up by the enemy. They had again and again felt that all was over, but still kept up the struggle till a sudden commotion in the city, and the sight of fresh troops pouring in, seemed completely to crush out their last hopes. For they had clung to the belief that Mr Brooke would succeed in making their position known, and bring reinforcements, but these had come to the other side. There had seemed to be nothing left but to fight to the last, and, when the enemy mastered the barricades, to retreat to the building beside that where the women and children were, and apply a match to the magazine—finding death, but avenging it upon their cowardly foes, who must have perished by hundreds in the explosion, so large was the store of powder in the place.

Our arrival had been in the nick of time, and a scene of frantic joy had ensued; but it was soon at an end, for the guns had to be worked again after a very brief period utilised in getting them into position.

Still, small as was the reinforcement, it placed the powder-blackened, ragged, haggard men—soldiers and civilians—in a far better position, and they rushed to the batteries and loopholes, to help pour a rain of bullets on the advancing enemy, while the dismounted lancers worked guns which had been silent for want of help, and our six-pounders grew hot with the rapidity of the fire.

“How long will the colonel be?” said Haynes, coming to my side for a few moments, our men needing no encouragement, but fighting the guns with a look of suppressed rage in their eyes, as if they were seeking to avenge the blow which had fallen upon their captain.

“I cannot say,” I replied. “Certainly not till dark.”

“Then he will be too late,” said Haynes, gloomily. “We shall never be able to hold out till then. Danby is getting busier every moment.”

“Yes; it’s those black wretches on that big building,” I said, pointing at a place a little over a hundred yards away; and as I spoke, a bullet whistled by my ear. “They have some of their best marksmen there. Never mind; let’s show them we have good marksmen too.”

He did as I suggested, and three of our guns were trained and shotted, two being aimed by Sergeant Craig and Denny, whom Brace had made corporal, during the past few days.

“Quickly as you can,” I said, as shot after shot was fired from the roof of the building.

It meant exposure for our men, but they did not heed it, and in ten minutes the top of the building was crumbling about its occupants’ ears, while a couple of cleverly sent shell completed their discomfiture, and they rapidly evacuated the place.

It was only a temporary success, but it relieved us for the time, and enabled us to direct our attention to other dangers.

The rest of that day is one horrible scene of confusion to me, as we worked on, burned by the sun, faint with the sickening smell of powder, and many falling beneath the rushing hail of bullets poured into the enclosure; but there was no sign of shrinking. The men had long before cast off their jackets, and worked on in shirt and trousers, always preserving their discipline, and trying their best to make their shot tell.

Twice over I saw a figure on horseback appear directing the men—a figure I could not mistake, and man after man tried to bring him down, but he seemed to bear a charmed life. He was most prominent at an attempt to storm the place when, mad with fury, a column rushed forward bearing ladders and poles under one arm, whilst they waved their gleaming swords with the other. But as soon as we were certain of their approach, our light guns were slewed round, and such a condensed hail of grape was sent into them that when close up they reeled, wavered, and retreated again.

Then, without cessation, the firing was resumed from every sheltered spot within range, and we waited for the night attack, one we were sure would come; and as we waited, the sun went down, the darkness began to approach rapidly, and there was not a man there, as he slowly ate his scraps of food, and drank the water brought round by the ladies, who did not feel that it would be our last night on earth.

I was leaning against the wheel of the nearest gun, eating mechanically, and thinking that my father would be too late, for in the distance I could see sepoys gathering and marching forward as if for another assault, when a lady approached me with a cup and a vessel of water.

“Will you drink, sir?” she said faintly.

“Grace!” I exclaimed.

“Oh, Gil, dear brother,” she sobbed; “must we all be killed?”

“No,” I cried passionately; “there are too many brave fellows here. And cheer up; father must be close at hand. There, give me some water. How is poor Captain Brace?”

“Don’t ask me,” she said, in a faint whisper. “I never thought to meet the brave friend you wrote of like this.”

I had just drunk the water, and was handing back the cup, when Sergeant Craig, who was at the other gun, shouted—

“Look out! They’re stealing up in the dark.”

“Quick! Under cover!” I cried to Grace; and I ran her up to the shelter, and started back to the guns, which were already sending flash after flash into the growing darkness, but all in vain. Ny Deen had been preparing for an assault which he meant to be final and, heading his men himself, he brought them on in such force that I saw our case must be hopeless, and that in another minute they would be over the earthworks, cutting us down.

“Quicker, boys! Quicker!” I cried, as the men fired. “Now rammers and swords. They’re on to us.”

I felt a boy no longer, but as fierce a man as any there, for mother and sister were not twenty yards away, and I used the rajah’s sword with all my strength, saving poor Sergeant Craig from instant death by a sharp thrust.

Then we were being borne back, and the sepoys and armed rabble were over the earthworks in several directions.

“All over! Keep together!” yelled Haynes.

“Old England for ever!” shouted Craig, still weak from his wounds, but fighting like the brave man he was, when crash! and then crash! and again crash! volley after volley, such as could only be fired by a well-drilled English regiment, not two hundred yards away; and, encouraged by the sounds, our little garrison sent up a tremendous cheer, and, instead of giving way, beat their enemies back, while volley