e Gate. It was important to ascertain the extent
of these, so the four engineer officers named volunteered to make an
examination. On the evening of the 13th of September, while it was
still light, Lang stole out of the British camp, and coolly ran the
gauntlet of the sepoy bullets to the very counterscarp of the ditch
beneath the fortifications. He returned safely to report that the
breaches were practicable.

To make more sure of the nature of the ground, Lang and Medley ventured
out again after nightfall with a ladder and measuring-rod. They
reached the great ditch, completed their examination of its depth and
width, and were mounting to the breach itself when the alarmed sepoy
sentries came running towards them. To stay meant almost certain
death, so the two officers, with their escort of riflemen, made a dash
for safety. Their figures were descried, however, and a volley of
balls came whizzing about their ears as they bolted back. Elsewhere,
at the Water bastion, Greathed and Home were similarly engaged, being
able to announce that the breaches there were equally successful.

At last all was in readiness for the attack. To everyone's
gratification, the honour of leading the assault had been conferred on
Nicholson. He was to head the first of the three columns placed under
his command and to storm the breach near the Cashmere bastion. The
second column directed its attention to the Water bastion, while the
third was told off to follow the first after the Cashmere Gate had been
blown up.

The story of how the gallant Lieutenants Home and Salkeld, with
Sergeant Carmichael, Corporal Burgess, and others, blew up the Cashmere
Gate and covered themselves with glory, cannot be given at length here.
Abler pens than mine have described the brave deed with graphic
detail,[1] and I must refer the reader to their narratives. It is of
Nicholson and his last glorious exploit that I have to tell.

His post of honour, as has been explained, was at the head of the first
attacking column. While Home and Salkeld were carrying their powder
bags to the Cashmere Gate, and while behind them No. 3 Column, under
Campbell of the 52nd, waited like hounds in leash, Nicholson gave the
signal to advance. The booming of the guns had ceased, the heavy
shells from the 24- and 18-pounders having cleared once more the
breaches which the mutineers had vainly attempted to repair. The way
was open for the stormers to enter the doomed c