he probabilities were that they would all be
massacred, save the women; and as he thought of them he raised his eyes,
and found those of Private Gray fixed upon him, as if reading his very
soul.

"You know what I was thinking, Gray," he said, resentfully.

"Yes, sir," said Gray, sharply; "you were debating within yourself
whether you should strike the Union Jack in token of surrender."

"I was," said Captain Smithers, angry with himself at being as it were
obliged to speak as he did, to this simple private of his regiment.
"And you advise it?"

"Advise it, sir? For heaven's sake--for the sake of the ladies whom we
have to defend, let us fight till the last gasp, and then send a few
shots into the magazine. Better death than the mercy of a set of
cut-throat pirates."

Captain Smithers was silent for a few moments, and then he said
quietly,--

"I should not have surrendered, Gray. You are quite right." He
hesitated for a moment or two, and then said hoarsely,--

"Gray, we hate each other."

"This is no time for hatred, sir," said Gray, sternly.

"No," said Captain Smithers, "it is not. In half an hour we shall be,
in all human probability, dead men. Rank will be no more. Gray, I
never in my heart doubted your honesty. You are a brave man. Now for
duty."

"Yes, sir," said Gray, in a deeply moved voice--"for duty."

_Crash_!

There was a sharp ragged volley from the enemy at that moment as a body
of them advanced, and a shriek of agony from close by, followed by a
fall.

"Some poor fellow down," said the Captain, hoarsely. "Who is it,
Sergeant Lund?" he said, taking a dozen strides in the direction of the
cry.

"Private Sim, sir. Shot through the heart--dead!"

The captain turned away, and the next minute the fight on all sides was
general, the enemy winning their way nearer and nearer, and a couple of
prahus sending a shower of ragged bullets from their brass lelahs over
the attacking party's heads.

"Stand firm, my lads; stand firm. Your bayonets, boys!" cried Captain
Smithers, as with a desperate rush the Malays dashed forward now to
carry the place by assault, and in sufficient numbers to sweep all
before them--when _boom! boom! boom! boom_! came the reports of heavy
guns, and the fire from the prahus ceased.

"Hurrah! my lads; steady!" cried Tom Long, waving his sword. "The
steamer! the steamer!"

"No," cried Captain Smithers, "it is from below. It is a heavily-armed
prahu."

"