force. He had to detach eight of his
men--three to the windows and five to the wall--leaving only fourteen,
including Bulger and Toley, to meet the rush in front.

It was not long in coming. 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.

Desmond could never afterward remember the details of the crowded moments
that followed. There were cries all around him: behind, the strident
voice of Mr. Toley was cheering his men to repel the assault at the back
of the house: at his side Bulger was bellowing like a bull of Bashan. But
all this was confused noise to him, for his attention was wholly occupied
with his old enemy. His first lunge at Diggle was neatly parried, and the
two, oblivious of all that was happening around them, looked full into
each other's eyes, read grim determination there, and fought with a cold
fury that meant death to the first that gave an opening to his opponent's
sword.

If motive counted, if the right cause could always win, the issue
admitted of no doubt. Desmond had a heavy score to pay off.