Mahommed Khan's right arm
rose and his sword flashed in the sunlight as he stood up in his stirrups.
She shut her eyes. But there was no shock! There was the swish of
whirling steel, the thunder of hoofs, the sound of bodies falling.
There was a scream or two as well and a coarse-mouthed Rajput oath.
But when she dared to open her eyes once more they were thundering
still, headlong down the city street and Mahommed Khan was whirling
his sword in mid-air to shake the blood from it.
Ahead lay the city gate and she could see another swarm of Hindus
rushing from either side to close it. But "Charge!" yelled Mahommed
Khan again, and they swept through the crowd, through the half-shut
gate, out on the plain beyond, as a wind sweeps through the forest,
leaving fallen tree-trunks in its wake.
"Halt!" roared the Risaldar, when they were safely out of range.
"Are any hurt? No? Good for us that their rifles are all in the
firing-line yonder!"
He sat for a minute peering underneath his hand at the distant, dark,
serried mass of men and the steel-tipped lines beyond it, watching
the belching cannon and the spurting flames of the close-range rifle-fire.
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