instant big tongues of flame burst forth, and a dense volume of
choking smoke eddied into the cellar.

The sight filled the Boers with pleasure, as a faint cheer showed, and
almost immediately afterwards they started forward, in open order, and
rushed for the house.

"Out with the fire!" Jack cried sharply. "Those fellows cannot reach
us for some minutes yet. Quick! Pass up those buckets to me!"

Standing on the top rung of the ladder, with the smoke blowing in his
face and almost smothering him, he stretched down his hands, grasped the
buckets passed up to him, and dashed the contents over the blazing
timber. Two were sufficient, and in a minute the fire was subdued, and
he had kicked out the surviving embers with his feet.

Then all four took the best places they could find, and, waiting till
the Boers were close enough to make their aim fairly certain, opened
fire upon them. But the dusk was already almost turning into night,
and, undeterred by the bullets, the enemy was rapidly closing in upon
them. Things looked very black, and common sense would have suggested
an honourable surrender. But the excitement of the struggle had taken
fast hold of Jack and his friends, and their blood was thoroughly
roused. They had defended the house for many hours, and now, just at
the moment when help and rescue were expected, they were not going to
give up the unequal struggle till the very last moment had arrived.
Even Eileen was firmly determined upon this point. Encouraged by the
resolute pluck of her father and these two young Englishmen, she seemed
to have forgotten her sex for the time being, and now, crouched behind a
tumbled portion of the iron roof, her rifle spoke out repeatedly and
truly, and sent many a Boer to his last account, or limping from the
field.

But the impossible could not be expected. In spite of a gallant
defence, the host of Boers were now close at hand, and a hail of bullets
was directed at the house and at the four spitting points of flame which
showed where the muzzles of the rifles were hidden.

"It's all up, lads," shouted Frank Russel. "Shall I shout to them to
cease their fire?"

"Wait, what is that?" Eileen cried, clutching her father by the arm.
"Guns in the distance, Father, and rifle fire. It is the sortie!"

Pausing for a moment, the defenders crouched behind their shelter and
listened eagerly and with beating hearts. Shouts and volley-firing
reached their ears, togethe