It was hard for a brief space for Richard Darrell to grasp the fact that he was not in cantonments at Roumwallah when the trumpet rang out in the grey dawn and echoed round the courtyard—for the change was sudden from deep sleep to wakefulness.

But the appearance of the bed-hangings and the strangeness of the place brought all back with a rush, and he leaped out of bed to run to the window and look out.

There in the courtyard, backed by the dark shadows, stood the six guns, looking pearl-grey with dew, and by them the fine, stalwart figure of one of the gunners in fatigue uniform, his sabre hooked up and carbine resting in the hollow of his arm, marching slowly up and down.

Away to the left was the lofty, dark arch of the gateway, made high enough to allow for the passage of a fully caparisoned elephant with the roofed howdah and ornament; and there, too, was a sentry pacing his beat at right angles to the man by the guns, who for some reason once more attracted Dick.

He stood gazing hard at the man, trying to make out his features; but it was too dark yet.

“It must be,” thought Dick; “and—yes, that settles it—he limps slightly. It is Hanson.”

Dick began to wonder whether the man would keep to his promise; and somehow the recollection of all that had passed kept the thinker’s brain actively employed during the time he was dressing, with the full intention of taking advantage of the cool freshness of the morning to have a stroll about the place.

By the time he was dressed the men were giving the final touches to the guns, which glistened in the morning sunshine, free from every speck of dust; from the long double range of stables the whinnying and stamping of horses was heard, while the camp-servants and others were busily rearranging the baggage and ammunition-wagons along the front of the stabling, formerly, no doubt, the site of much more important buildings.

The first man he met on descending to the courtyard was Sergeant Stubbs, who looked full of business, but found time to salute.

“Was not that Hanson on guard by the guns, Sergeant?” asked Dick.

“Yes, sir,” said the old sergeant, shaking his head. “It’s him, and it ain’t him, if you can understand that.”

“Find him changed?” said Dick eagerly.

“Changed ain’t the word for it, sir. There’s something wrong with him. I ain’t a sooperstitious man as believes in fetches and warnings and that sort of thing, but if Bob Hanson gets something at our next set-to, I shouldn’t be much surprised.”

“I should,” said Dick shortly—“very much.”

“Yes, sir,” said the sergeant respectfully, “you would be, I dessay; but, begging your pardon, sir, one thinks very differently when you’re one side o’ twenty to what you do when you’re the other side o’ two twenties.”

“Morning, Darrell.—Morning, Sergeant; you’re beginning to get a bit ship-shape,” said Wyatt, coming upon them suddenly.

“Yes, sir; soon be right now. Saves a lot of time having no tents to set up or strike. These’ll make better quarters than our old ones as soon as we’re shook down.”

“No doubt,” said Wyatt.—“Which way are you going, Darrell?”

“To the gate, and to have a stroll round. Come?”

For answer Wyatt walked with his young companion to the great gate, and then stopped short.

“Don’t go out yet, my lad,” he said quietly; “and when you do go, have some one with you, and carry your side-arms.”

“Think it’s necessary?” said Dick sharply, as he gave a wondering look at the very serious aspect of his companion.

“Yes. Give up this morning’s stroll, and let’s go up here and have a walk along the roof, or battlements, whichever you like to call them.”

“Very well,” said Dick in rather a disappointed tone.

Wyatt noted it, and entered a side archway just large enough to admit one, Dick following him up a narrow stairway to the terrace-like roof of the old palace, the place being furnished with a good breastwork and quite open, so that they could walk right round the courtyard.

The sun was now rising, and they had a good view of part of the city with occasional glimpses of the walls by which it was ended.

“Better than I thought for,” said Wyatt after being silent for some time. “Last night I was afraid that the other buildings were nearer, and would command this place in case of trouble, but we command them.”

Every man knew what he had to do, and did it with the precision taught by long practice, so that there was not the slightest confusion; while already, when the two officers descended, the people from the town and neighbourhood were bringing in fruit, vegetables, and other provisions as if to a market, and the mess-men and cooks had their quarters fitted up, and were hard at work.

That morning the officers’ table was liberally supplied by the Rajah, and the meal was eaten in peace, everything being satisfactory—even the doctor’s report, he having no one on the sick-list—nothing to do.

“I think we may congratulate ourselves on our progress so far,” said Hulton.

He had hardly spoken when there was the trampling of a horse and the loud challenge of sentries, regardless of which latter a man dashed in through the gateway at full speed, and drew rein so suddenly that he threw his horse upon its haunches.

The officers hurried to the window, and the rider, seeing them, drew a paper from his cummerbund, spurred his horse up towards where they stood, a floor above him, stuck the paper on the point of the lance he carried, and held it up to Hulton.

“Look out,” said Wyatt quickly. “Treachery, perhaps. He may thrust.”

“It means his death if he does,” said Hulton firmly, for two sentries had run up and caught the horseman’s reins.

As he spoke he took the paper from the point of the lance, unrolled and read it aloud to his companions:

“‘To Captain Hulton.—My spies bring word Rajah Singh with strong force approaching fast.—Doon.’”

“That’s plain English,” said Hulton sharply. Then to one of the sentries he shouted the one word, “Trumpeter!”

The men were already on the alert, the dashing in of the messenger having brought them out from barrack-room and stable, and there was no need to search for the youth whose presence was needed. Foreseeing that his services might be required, he had been to fetch his instrument, and now came running across the courtyard, received his orders—and the messenger’s dark eyes flashed with excitement as he sat up like a bronze statue, keenly watching everything. Then the trumpet sounded its call, making the walls echo, the first blast seeming to electrify the place, as it drew forth sounds even from the stables, where the horses whinnied, snorted, and began to stamp.

“Now, gentlemen,” said Hulton sharply, “I want the Rajah to see how quickly we can turn out.”

To one unaccustomed to such a scene, it would have been marvellous in its celerity and freedom from confusion. A few minutes had scarcely elapsed since the coming in of the messenger before the horses, already harnessed, were being led out and attached to the gun-limbers, and the officers’ chargers were being hurried by the syces to the flight of steps leading up to their quarters.

But the buzz of preparation was not confined to the old palace, for already there was the trampling of horses in the streets outside, and armed footmen were hurrying by the gate as if to a gathering of troops elsewhere.

“The alarm comes soon, Wyatt,” said the captain, buckling on his sword, “and it is a pity that we are so strange. The Rajah has generals, I suppose; and we know nothing of where the attack is expected.”

“Of course you will act quite independently of the Rajah’s men, and as seems best.”

“Of course,” said the captain, going once more to the window, as he drew the chin-strap of his helmet beneath his chin.—“Capital!” he exclaimed. “Well done!—Come, gentlemen, or we shall be last.”

He led the way to a little terrace at the head of the steps, where the trumpeter, already mounted, sat close by the messenger, waiting, the latter’s horse looking startled and uneasy at the flashing helmets close at hand and their scarlet, waving, horse-tail plumes; but his rider steadied him, and once more horse and man stood there like a bronze group.

Meanwhile the sergeants were hurrying here and there, seeing that everything was ready, and then came to a standstill.

This was the signal for Hulton to spring upon his charger. The buzz of preparation had given place to a silence broken only by the uneasy stamp of a hoof and the champing of bits, while the windows and doors of the different buildings were thronged by the white-robed servants who would be left behind.

“Can you remember the way to the palace taken by the elephant last night, Mr Darrell?”

“Yes, sir,” said Dick sharply.

“Lead,” said the captain laconically. Then, after a final look round, he signed to the trumpeter, whose notes rang out, and every man stood at “attention.”

Another blast, and gunners sprang on horse or limber as the three drivers to each gun mounted.

Another blast, and the advance-guard marched with Dick, the messenger trotting without orders to his side; and all filed out beneath the gateway into the narrow street, the gun-wheels, limbers, and ammunition-wagons rattling and rumbling, while way was made for the strangers.

A note rang out from behind, and the troop broke into a trot, Dick feeling doubtful of finding his way through the intricate streets and lanes; but some object which had struck his attention overnight always came to his help, till he successfully performed his task, and reached the wide opening in front of the palace.

As they were debouching on to this place at a trot, Hulton cantered up alongside of the leaders, for he had grasped the position at once.

“We should only be crippled here, Darrell,” he said. “Lead the men to the bridge, cross the river, and out on to the plain.”

This was easily done, for a broad avenue of trees led from the palace to the river gate and the bridge over which they had entered the town.

The road was pretty clear, so the trumpet was sounded again, and the troop broke into a gallop, tearing along till the gate, whose tower was manned now with troops, came into view; and through this they dashed and over the bridge, where quite a crowd of mounted men could now be seen.

These were all in motion, apparently without discipline or motive; but as Dick rode on he could see that they were not without a leader, for several brilliantly dressed officers were amongst them, and the Rajah himself was present on his elephant.

The horse artillery troop bore off a little to the right, thundering by this body of irregular cavalry—apparently about a thousand strong—swept round them into line, and, at the trumpet-sound, halted as perfectly as if on parade, when Captain Hulton cantered up to the Rajah’s side.

“How quick you have been!” said the latter involuntarily.

“Quick, sir?” replied Hulton; “and yet we were last.”

“Yes; but my people were out here before the messenger was sent to you. Listen now; the enemy is coming by the open road from the north. I have left all my footmen to hold the walls of the city, and I propose marching to meet these people and attack them at once. You can take the lead, or follow, whichever will be best.”

“Neither will be best, sir,” said Hulton gravely. “To be of most service I must be free. We can help you better by riding in advance on either flank where-ever it is open. But, tell me, are there any mountain-passes beyond the forest there?”

“No; open ground fit for cavalry. If we are forced to retire, make for the city at once. We can hold that.”

“And we shall be of no use,” thought Hulton as he saluted the Rajah and rode back to the troop, fully determined to act as he thought best, and not to be shut up in the city if it was possible to maintain himself and his men outside.

Giving the order to dismount, to rest the horses for a few minutes, he had a short consultation with Wyatt, telling him all he had heard from the Rajah.

“He must go on his own way,” he said in Dick’s hearing. “It will be a fight quite in the old fashion, as they have always fought, but it will be against an enemy who fights in the same way; so, if they are not too many, our bit of civilised warfare may turn the tables on the Rajah’s side.”

A few dozen more mounted men came galloping up to join the Rajah’s force, and then he evidently made preparations for an advance.

“He is wrong,” said Hulton, “for there are narrow roads and jungle yonder, while here he has room for his cavalry to act.”

Then, seeing that the Rajah was sending out detachments to feel for the enemy, and two more at intervals to act as supports, the captain felt better satisfied, knowing that the attack on the part of the enemy could not occur without due warning; while, to make the best use he could of the guns, he moved the troop up to a little hill, which gave him a commanding view of the country for a couple of miles round—the detachments of cavalry sent forward coming once more into view—but the glass showed no sign of the enemy.

Wyatt came to where Dick was seated once, looked at him sharply, and nodded.

“It may turn out to be a false alarm,” he said. “Humph! Hulton thinks so too,” he added, for the order was given to dismount, so as to ease the horses as much as possible, and keep them fresh for any work they might be called upon to do.

Then half-an-hour passed, and this grew into an hour, during which the Rajah’s men changed their position again and again, but, as in accordance with Hulton’s notions, they kept well out in the open; and Dick was watching the restless movements of the body, where every man seemed to be acting according to his own ideas—there being no signs of cohesion or mutual support—when he found that the old sergeant was close to his elbow.

“I expect these fellows can fight, sir,” he said in a low voice. “You’ve never seen anything of the kind, I suppose?”

“Nothing but sham fights, Stubbs,” answered Dick.

“Ah! there’ll be nothing sham about this, sir. I expect the enemy will get well within reach, and then make one big charge, if our side doesn’t begin the business; and then they’ll all brush up, and it’ll be hand-to-hand lighting, scattering all over the field, and giving us a very poor chance, for we shan’t be able to fire for fear of hitting our friends. Look, sir, look!” he said sharply. “Your eyes are keener than mine. Can you make anything out yonder, a mile away, by that patch of wood?”

“Cavalry,” said Dick excitedly.

The officers had caught sight of the movement, and Hulton’s orders were given sharply. The men sprang to their saddles, the guns were wheeled round, unlimbered, loaded; and Dick’s heart began to throb heavily as the movement developed, and they could make out a detachment of horse galloping back towards them, followed by another and another—evidently the parties sent out in search of the enemy.

There was no doubt of this being the case, for, directly after, a cloud of horsemen came into view in full pursuit; and, from a movement in the neighbourhood of the Rajah’s elephant, it was evident that all this was seen, for fully half of his force began to gallop forward in support of their friends.

“That’s what the captain was afraid of, sir,” said Stubbs. “Before long they will all be mixed up together, and there’ll be no telling which is which. They ought to keep retiring and leading the enemy on, so as to give us a chance. Hullo, what does this mean?” he said aloud, and he looked anxiously in the captain’s direction.

It meant that, however inexperienced the enemy’s chief might be in European tactics, he was a better general than Rajah Doon, for the attack was to be made from two quarters at once, and the horse artillery troop was to have its chance of doing good after all.

Hulton saw the danger at once—a serious peril not yet noticed by the troops about the Rajah’s elephant.

For a large force of mounted men had suddenly come into view away to the left in the most unexpected way, so that the attack was about to be delivered in front and rear; and if the Rajah’s men proved unable to hold their own, there was the possibility of a disastrous business, the only way of retreat being over the river, and there was no infantry to hold the front of the bridge while the mounted men crossed it into the shelter of the town.

“Looks bad for us,” thought Dick, who in imagination saw the troop and their guns helplessly wedged in amongst the irregular horse.

But there was no more time for thought; Hulton’s orders were being obeyed. The front was changed, and the little battery faced round towards the approaching cloud of horsemen, who were about to deliver their attack at a gallop before the Rajah’s troops could recover from their surprise.

From where the young subaltern was seated he could command every movement, and though wanting in the steady rush of a European cavalry charge, the enemy’s horse kept well together quite a thousand strong; and Dick’s heart palpitated as he loosened his sword in the scabbard, and then saw to his pistols, for it seemed to him that before many minutes were over the enemy would be upon them, riding them down.

But the surprise was to the foe, whose leaders were under the impression that they would sweep away the little group of horses and men stationed upon the hill.

Hulton waited till the enemy were only a few hundred yards away before giving the word to fire. Then thud—thud—thud—the guns began to belch forth their clouds of white smoke, and the rapid reloading went on, so that the regular intervals could be preserved, the discharge of number six being followed by that of number one, ready again, but with a different charge.

It was horribly exciting, and the young subaltern had ample time to see the effects of the fire. The disorder began in the approaching body with the first discharge, horses and men coming to the ground at every shot; but there was no check in the rush—men leaped their horses over those who fell, and a wild yell now smote the ears of the troop, heard well above the roar of the guns.

But as the first gun delivered its second round, this time with grape instead of round-shot, the havoc caused had its due effect; while as the five more discharges followed, tearing through the densely-packed crowd, there was a few moments’ check; but finding the firing suddenly cease, the hesitation passed away, and, with fierce cries of rage, the enemy dashed up the slope, and charged straight through the dense cloud of smoke, dispersing it in all directions.

A yell of rage burst forth as they encountered a second surprise. For as the second discharge roared from the guns, the order to limber up was given, and while the enemy was still a hundred yards away the swift battery was in motion, and, covered by the smoke, swept off down one side of the hill and away at right angles, to take up a fresh position nearly a mile away.

Then was the time for the Rajah’s force to have delivered their charge, while the enemy was halting in a state of confusion, but it did not come; and as soon as the enemy had recovered from its surprise, there was a rush made in pursuit of the battery, which halted, turned, and poured in another half-dozen rounds, and was off again, with the guns bumping and leaping as the horses stretched out and raced over the ground.

No less than six times did Hulton bring his battery into action from different parts of the field, playing terrible havoc in the enemy’s ranks, and then his work seemed to be done, for, as had been foreseen, the battle had become a cavalry mÊlÉe, or, rather, a series of single combats, friend and foe being hopelessly intermingled. But one thing was plain enough from where the artillery were seated, waiting for another chance to be of service. In spite of the terrible losses they had sustained, the enemy was steadily pressing the Rajah’s people back towards the river and the bridge, Hulton raging as he felt how helpless he was to produce a diversion.

“Why hasn’t he a regiment or two of foot there to cover the retreat?” he cried. “There would have been plenty of time for them to man the walls afterwards. Can you suggest anything, Wyatt?”

“No,” was the reply. “It’s what I expected. We’ve done our work, and ought to be getting over the bridge now.”

“If we were there now we should be jammed. Look at them; they’re beginning to fly, and our retiring would have a terribly bad effect.”

“There must be another gate and a bridge on the other side of the city,” said Wyatt. “What do you say to following the river-bank?”

“I don’t want to leave the ground. We ought to be covering the retreat,” cried Hulton angrily.

“That’s quite right,” said Wyatt; “but we should injure friends more than foes, and we ought to be moving off. No; look!”

He pointed away along the course of the river, and as Dick followed the direction of his hand, it was to see that a fresh body of cavalry was coming up in the direction Wyatt had proposed for their retreat; while, to add to the peril, from the same direction the white cotton garments of a strong body of foot could be seen following the horse.

That gave something to do, and, rapidly unlimbering, the approaching horse and foot were soon thrown into a state of disorder, and their advance for the time being was checked. But fresh peril threatened. The enemy had gathered together away to their right, and the guns had to be slewed round for a fresh discharge; but before half the volley had parted, a body of about fifty horsemen came on at a gallop, opening out right and left so as to avoid the next discharge.

There was no time for limbering up, and drivers and horse-holders prepared to defend their dismounted comrades to the death.

But as the horsemen opened out they shouted wildly, and a revulsion of feeling swept through Dick as he grasped the fact that they were friends, who reined up ready to help them.

The gunners sprang to their places again, and once more the guns spoke out to their front and to their left flank, where the fresh horse and foot were coming.

“Is there another bridge?” cried Hulton in Hindustani to the leader of their reinforcement.

“Yes; but we could not reach it now,” was the reply.

“Then we must charge right across the field.”

“No, no,” cried the leader; “there is the ford.”

“Hah! could we take the guns across?”

“Yes. Follow us.”

“Wait!” shouted Hulton, and six more discharges were sent at the hesitating enemy, the smoke rising densely and again covering their retreat. For, before the enemy could realise what had happened, the battery was limbered up and in full retreat towards the river, the leader of the little body of horsemen taking them diagonally down to the stream, his men dashing in at a gallop, for the fresh body coming from the open bridge now grasped what was about to be done, and came on with a rush to capture the guns.

There was no hesitation on the part of the troop. As the horsemen dashed in, sending the water flying, in rushed the men with the leading gun, the water rising above the axles of the wheels and foaming round them, as, of necessity slowing down, the horses tore through the river, a good hundred yards wide, the drivers making every effort to get their teams through in safety.

Fortunately the water shallowed as they neared the farther bank beneath the walls; unfortunately the enemy’s foot reached the bank that had been left soon after the last gun had been dragged in, and opened a dropping fire from their long matchlocks, the bullets rattling on the gun-carriages and making more than one horse plunge wildly.

It was only a matter of minutes, and then the enemy’s fire slackened before a fierce rattle of musketry opened upon them from the walls, effectually covering the retreat of the troop, once more on firm ground—a well-made road running along beneath the walls, leading to a gate, through which the battery passed—while the firing grew louder in the direction of the bridge.

“Going to make for the old palace, and defend ourselves there?” said Wyatt, riding up abreast of Hulton.

Dick heard the question, and looked towards his leader, seeing him slowly turn his face towards his brother-officer, and then raise his hand with his sword hanging by the knot from his wrist, to take off his helmet, before drooping forward over his saddle-bow.

“Ah!” exclaimed a familiar voice close to Dick’s elbow, “the captain’s hit;” and the old sergeant spurred forward to Hulton’s other side to keep him on his horse.

“Forward!” rang out Wyatt’s order, and then he shouted to one of the horsemen to guide them to their quarters.

“Pass the word for the doctor,” said Wyatt then hoarsely.

“He’s badly hurt, sir,” said the sergeant. “They’ve got him on the limber of the last gun.”

“Tut, tut!” ejaculated Wyatt; and then he was silent till the gateway of the old palace was reached, and they filed into the yard, where the guns were placed so as to cover the entrance, and Captain Hulton and six of the men were helped into one of the rooms, turned for the time being into a hospital; while directly after, by a strange irony of fate, the doctor, to whom they should have looked for help at such a time as this, was lifted carefully off the blood-stained limber and borne in last.

“Sergeant,” cried Wyatt, “gallop to the bridge and see what is being done there. The Rajah may need a couple of the guns to sweep it.”

As he spoke, the heavy report of a cannon told that one of the pieces mounted at the main gate was being brought into action.

The sergeant went off without a word; and as the men stood to their guns, ready for anything that might befall them now, Dick followed Wyatt into the hospital room.

“Now, Dick, lad,” he said hoarsely, “you are a doctor’s son; for heaven’s sake, bring all you know to bear. Hulton first.”

The lad was already unbuckling his belt; his heavy helmet followed, and, with a strange feeling of horror and dismay attacking him now after the wild excitement of the fight, he bent down over Hulton, who lay upon a charpoy, perfectly insensible, and with his face of a strangely pallid hue, contracted, too, as if by approaching death.