Diggle did not wait to parley. Taking a musket
from one of his men he raised it to his shoulder and fired at a Sepoy,
whose head just showed above the gate. The man raised his hand to his
brow and fell back with a sharp cry--a bullet had plowed a furrow through
his scalp. Desmond checked his men as they were about to fire in reply:
but when, in the rush that followed, the enemy came within thirty yards,
he gave the word, and seven muskets flashed forth across the barricade.
The attacking party were coming forward in close order, and five of the
men fell. But the rest sprang forward with shrill yells, Diggle, who was
untouched, urging them on. Even the fire of Desmond's second rank failed
to check them. Two or three dropped; others were soon swarming up the
wall; and though the defenders with clubbed muskets struck savagely at
their heads and hands as they appeared above the coping, if one drew
back, another took his place: and the wall was so long that at several
points there were gaps between Desmond's Sepoys where the enemy could
mount unmolested.
Desmond, having discharged his two pistols, disposing of one of the
assailants with each shot, was in the act of reloading when Diggle leaped
into the compound, followed by two of his men. Shouting to Bulger,
Desmond threw the pistols and rammer on the ground behind him, and,
drawing his sword, dashed at the three intruders, who were slightly
winded by the charge and their exertions in scaling the wall.
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