ed entrance, staggered blindly an officer of
infantry, his uniform torn and disheveled, and blood pouring from half a
dozen wounds. He plunged forward, and rolled in a lifeless heap at the
very feet of Colonel Carrington.

CHAPTER V.

THE NIGHT ON THE ROOF.

The tragic scene described at the close of the preceding chapter,
following on the very heels of the outbreak, was a fearful shock to all
who saw it, and for an instant they could only stare at one another with
mute, frightened faces.

Colonel Carrington broke the spell. With drawn sword he made a dash for
the door, closely followed by the rest, but before they could cross the
apartment a louder burst of firing came from the very courtyard, bullets
whistled through the windows, and then a scuffle began in the hall, and
angry voices were heard. It was over in a moment; a cry of pain, a low
groan, followed by the sound of bars dropped in their sockets, and then
into the room burst three Hindoo soldiers, grimy with blood and powder.

"Sahib colonel," cried the foremost, "we are lost. The Arabs and Somalis
have revolted. Hundreds of them surround the residency. Yonder in the
hall lies a dead Somali. We have barred the doors, but they will soon be
in."

Even as he spoke the portals shook under a succession of thunderous
blows.

"The rear door," cried the colonel. "We may escape that way."

"No, no; the building is surrounded," rejoined the Hindoo. "There is no
escape."

He was right. Shouts were heard on all sides, the blows on the doors
redoubled, and stray shots came in at the windows, both front and rear.

Sir Arthur lay prostrate in his chair.

"The roof! the roof!" he groaned. "We must take to the roof."

"By Jove, he's right," cried the colonel. "It's our last hope. Blow out
the lights and come on, quick!"

The lamps were out in a second, but a dim glare still shone into the
room from the torches outside. With an effort, Sir Arthur staggered to
his feet. Two of the soldiers assisted him, and then in great haste they
hurried through the hall to a rear room.

The building was of one story, and from this apartment a ladder led to
an open trap overhead.

Sir Arthur was pushed up first, followed closely by the rest, and just
as Momba brought up the rear and dragged the ladder after him, the great
residency doors gave way with a crash, and a wild yell of triumph told
only too plainly that