met the floor. The cap was iron-framed, and padded to turn a
sword-cut, and he heard the stone grate more harshly, then stick, so
that at least he and Charteris were not imprisoned without hope of
release. As he rose, he was aware of a muttered exclamation of disgust
from the other side of the door, and guessed that the man who had set
the stone turning had found that it would not shut.

"Shoulder to shoulder, Hal!" said Charteris sharply. The moment so
full of thought and action for Gerrard had for him been filled only
with intensest listening for every movement of the enemies in front,
and he had no idea of the foe behind. Something struck the edge of the
doorpost as it passed through the slit left open, and Gerrard fired at
the sound. Charteris jumped forward a little as the point of a long
dagger grazed his shoulder, and the noise of the shot was followed by a
choking cry in the passage.

"Thanks, old boy. Ready, watch!" Charteris took the lantern from his
pocket, and flashed it slowly round. Gerrard had a momentary
impression of shining weapons and gleaming eyeballs, all apparently
petrified into immobility by the sudden illumination. Before the enemy
could take advantage of the light to spring, he had snatched the
lantern from Charteris's hand, and set it on a little stone bracket,
evidently left for some such purpose, above the doorway, so that the
two Englishmen were in shadow, while their opponents were clearly
visible.

"Now, Bob, back to back!" he cried.

Three of the armed men in front made at them at once, while Sher Singh
and the others conferred in the background. Neither Gerrard nor
Charteris had time to do more than notice this ominous confabulation,
for their adversaries gave them plenty of work. They were as agile as
cats, and the chance was small indeed of getting in a telling blow.
One man went down with a bullet from Gerrard's revolver in his brain,
but his place was instantly taken by one of those at the back, and the
next few minutes saw several shots wasted. Suddenly another sound than
the clash of arms struck on Gerrard's ear--the grinding noise made by
the turning-stone. He had barely time to shout a warning to Charteris
before a shot, sounding like the report of a cannon in the confined
space, smashed and extinguished the lantern, and at the same moment two
hands grasped his ankles and threw him into the middle of the floor,
with Charteris--as he guessed by the clatter of a