would soon batter it in. It was only staving off
the evil day.

The firing without was now renewed--renewed with a fury not hitherto
manifested. Yet none of the missiles seemed to take effect. But a
perfect uproar was taking place, wild cries, and rushings to and fro.
Then the warriors who had entered the further compartment seemed to be
crowding out as fast as ever they could. The dawn now was fairly
broken. The space around the house had cleared as if by magic, save for
the dead and disabled. Those within the bush were retreating, turning
to fire as they did so. But--_not at the store_.

Then came a low rumbling sound, which the besieged ones, hearing, looked
at each other for a moment, and then broke into a mighty hurrah, for in
it they recognised the sound of hoofs, and of many hoofs.

Some two score horsemen rode up to the door, their uniforms and
trappings those of the Matabeleland Mounted Police. That this did not
constitute the whole of the force which had so effectually and in the
nick of time come to their relief, a sound of brisk firing from the rock
ridge at the back of the store served to show. A squad, having taken
possession of the said ridge, was hastening the departure of the
retreating Matabele.

As the besieged stepped forth they presented a not unimpressive
spectacle. Haggard, unshorn; hands blackened and burnt from contact
with the quick-firing magazine rifles; the anxious look telling of many
hours of strained vigilance; the hard set of determined faces; and the
light of battle not yet gone out of their eyes--they were in keeping
with the background of bullet-battered wall and the foreground of dark
corpses, grim and gory, lying stark and in every variety of contorted
shape, at which the Police horses were snorting and shying.

"Just in time, Overton!" said Jekyll, hailing the officer in command,
who was a friend of his. "Only just in the nick of time. They had
already got inside the further room. Five minutes more would have done
for us."

"You stood them off well," returned the other, dismounting. "I never
thought we'd have been any good at all; thought you'd have been knocked
on the head long ago." Then gravely, "Any--er--losses?"

"Four. One of your men. The one who warned us."

"Robinson, wasn't it?"--turning to a trooper, who answered in the
affirmative.

"Poor chap! Hallo, Carbutt. _You_ in it, eh?"

"Glad to be out of it, too. Have a drink, Overton. I think