Stan Lynn Part 49

"One moment," said Stan quietly as he once more put in the dry cartridge from his bandolier. "Just you try one from another packet," he whispered.--"Halt!" he shouted down the room. "Cease firing.--Now try one."

Another packet from the next layer was tried, but the wrapper was if anything wetter, and a _click_! was the result.

"Oh, they're all spoiled," said Lawrence bitterly. "The game's up, so only let us die fighting."

"Of course," said Stan coolly enough; "but we've not used our revolvers yet. We'll give them a volley from our rifles, and then we must take to our pistols and wait till they come to close quarters."

"What do you say to retreating to the office after the volley, and then defending the door as the brutes try to get at us? The revolvers will tell splendidly there, too, as we shall be firing into the dense mob who crowd into the pa.s.sage."

"The very thing," said Stan; "and we shall be defending Mr Blunt at the same time. Of course; and we must set the coolies at work then to help us with their knives."

"Yes," said Stan's lieutenant, "the coolies--Chinamen. Mr Lynn," he cried in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, "it must have been one of those dogs who were to be ready to stop the fire with their buckets."

"It couldn't have been," said Stan. "They were all up here."

"Then it was that cunning Chinese fox, Wing," growled Lawrence angrily; "and if we're to die he shall go first."

"Oh, impossible!" said Stan excitedly.

"I've got but one cartridge left," shouted a man at the far end of the room.

"And I,"--"And I,"--"And I," cried others, while some of the rest confessed to having two or three.

"And the enemy are coming on for a fresh attack of some kind. There's quite a mob making for your window, Mr Lynn."

"And they've got about a dozen stink-pots with them, sir," cried another.

Stan glanced round, and there was the situation plainly enough. Some ten men were in the front of a cl.u.s.ter of about forty of the enemy, who were coming steadily on with levelled _jingals_, obviously making for the centre of the building.

"Now's your time, sir," whispered the lieutenant. "Let's give them one good roar."

"Yes," said Stan, and he shouted to the occupants of the other windows to close up round him and bring the coolies to stand ready for the fire-pots close behind.

The evolution, if such it can be called, was performed at once, the little party of riflemen placing themselves in three rows behind their barricade, the first kneeling, the second stooping a little to fire over their fellows' heads, and the back row perfectly upright, with the barrels of their rifles resting on the shoulders of the second line.

"We must risk the fire-pots, gentlemen," said Stan; "but I hope to give the wretches one good, startling volley before they are able to throw.

Right into the thick of them, mind, and then, before the smoke rises, every man must dash down below and into the office. I mean to hold that now."

"But hadn't we better fill up our belts first, sir, with cartridges?"

"They have all been soaked with water," said Stan quietly. "There has been treachery here."

His words were received with a groan.

"Then it's all over," said one young fellow piteously.

"Not while we have our revolvers," said Stan. "We can stop them from reaching the office, I think, and our Chinese helpers will have a chance to do something then."

A hearty cheer arose at this, for the cloud of despondency that was gathering had been chased away, and once more every eye was bright and nerves strung for the final effort.

"They're nearly close enough," said Stan quietly. "When they are at the densest, and the order is given to advance, I shall utter the word.

Then fire right into the centre; never mind the fire-pot throwers.

Let's try to startle them if we can."

There was a low murmur of a.s.sent, and then all waited, glaring past the bristling barrels of their rifles at the coming enemy, who, contrary to their former action, now crowded closely together as they came in something like discipline, their movements pointing to the fact that they were about to deliver fire from their _jingals_ and then to make a rush. What they intended with the stink-pots which were being carried was not evident until they were closer in, when the fire-bearers struck off suddenly to the left as if to deliver them from a fresh point.

At this moment, as if to excite and drive the party on into making a more desperate attack, and to fill the defenders with dismay, the gongs on every junk suddenly boomed out with a terrific din; the fresh party uttered a yell, and then stopped short to fire.

Stan's voice was almost drowned, but not quite. There was enough of his order heard to animate his little body of defenders. Trigger was drawn before a single match could be lowered upon the powder-pans of the _jingals_, and the rifles made almost one report, their bullets tearing through the group of pirates, who were not twenty yards away. Then, blind to the effect of their volley, screened as everything was by the smoke, the defenders started back from the window and hurried down the stairway to make for the office, where Blunt, to the surprise of all, was found sitting back in a cane chair, with Wing a.s.siduously operating to keep him cool with a palm-leaf fan.

"Wouldn't stop lying down," began Wing to the nearest man; but his explanation was not heeded, the men preparing to barricade their keep, only leaving s.p.a.ce for the rest to file in.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

"TO CERTAIN DEATH?"

In the minutes that elapsed before the enemy could make their way into the deserted portion of the defences Stan and his Englishmen worked hard, making the coolies bring in a sufficiency of water for the hot and thirsty, while watch and ward was kept, and wonder was expressed as to what had been done with the stink-pots.

"I'm expecting," said the lieutenant, "that we shall know by the crackling of burning wood what has become of them."

But there was nothing to break the silence, no rush to indicate that the enemy had climbed in, and all attempts made to take an observation from the c.h.i.n.ks of the boarded-up windows of the office were useless; for these latter only resulted in the examiners seeing the far-stretching verdant country, no sweep of the river being visible from that portion of the building.

"What does it mean?" said Stan at last. "Some trap?"

All listened again for some minutes before Stan, pistol in hand, led the way to the foot of the warehouse stairs, where they stood listening for a few minutes before the lad planted his foot on the first step.

"No, no, sir; let me lead," whispered his lieutenant--"let me go this time. The first thing you'll hear will be the swish of one of their great swords. They're lying ready to take off the heads of all who begin to show."

"But we must get to know what they're doing," said Stan.

"Then let the carpenters take down the top plank of one of the doors, sir; it's only screwed, and we can see everything then. If they begin with their spears, a volley from our pistols will drive them back till the board is screwed on."

"But I don't believe that any one can be upstairs after all," cried Stan impatiently. "How foolish to have all the windows closed up without leaving a hole!"

"Hasn't proved very foolish, sir," said the lieutenant dryly, "according to my ideas. Holes for us to peep out at mean places for the enemy to send spears through. Where we could reach from inside they could get at from outside."

"Listen," said Stan; and for nearly five minutes silence was maintained, without a sound being heard.

"There!" whispered Stan triumphantly; "do you mean to tell me that the enemy would be able to keep as still as that if they were up there?"

"I'm afraid they would if they had laid a trap for us."

"Oh, impossible!" replied Stan.

"Perhaps you are right, sir," said the lieutenant; "but I've been working out here in China for the last twenty years, mixing with the people and learning their ways, and I'm ready to say that they're about the most artful beggars under the sun."