Dave Darrin on the Asiatic Station Part 18

"But are you going to be able to do it?"

"Yes," the young ensign declared.

"You are not saying that solely to cheer us?" persisted Belle. "You are sure that you can hold out?"

"If there's any power in American fighting men, we can," Dave a.s.serted.

"But you have ten men here who are out of the fight. How many more such losses can you stand?" Belle demanded calmly.

"If the 'Castoga' keeps on setting fires around us, I don't believe we shall have to stand many more losses," Dave a.s.sured her, and glanced past his wife at the other women who had gathered about them.

"Then," pursued Miss Chapin, taking up the questioning, "you don't consider that there is any likelihood of our being overwhelmed?"

"It is possible, but I firmly believe that we are going to be able to hold off the enemy all through the night," said Darrin. "The Chinese are attacking us in great numbers, and they are well armed and desperate. But we are all Americans on the walls, and there is a something in the morale and fighting fiber of an American that bears down and overawes the Chinese. They have hurt ten of our men. I believe that we have put at least a thousand of the yellow men out of the fight. That is all I can say now. Is it enough to rea.s.sure you, ladies?"

"It is enough," spoke up another woman, "to make us thankful that we have American men, instead of men of any other nation to defend us in this night of terror."

Bowing to the women, Dave kissed Belle, then pa.s.sed on. She did not seek to detain him; she was proud of her husband, confident of his fighting qualities, and aware that he could, at present, devote little time to her.

"The yellow men are creeping up again on this side, sir," called down the voice of a petty officer from the rampart that faced the river.

"When you think they're close enough, let 'em have it, and let 'em have it strong," Darrin called back. "Use the machine gun, but don't waste ammunition."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Soon a pattering of shots on the north rampart announced that the yellow men were once more attempting to come in close. Dave did not rush at once to the top of the wall, for he knew, by the comparative lightness of the fire of his own men, that the attack had not become serious. The officers there were capable of handling the situation.

From the red glow against the sky. Ensign Darrin knew that some of the Chinese dwellings were still burning, giving ample light to enable his men to serve as sharpshooters.

"My heartfelt thanks are due for that bombardment by the 'Castoga,'"

the young ensign told himself. "With light to shoot by we must score at least five times as many hits as would be possible without it."

Crossing to the southern side of the compound, Dave ascended nimbly to the rampart. Dan came forward to meet him.

"Nothing but a little sniping going on at present," reported Dalzell.

"The nearest approach to trouble appears to be at the north side, facing the river. Shall I go back there?"

"I believe that this side will again witness the heaviest fighting,"

Ensign Dave rejoined. "You had better remain here."

Again Dave went below. Listening for a moment to the sounds of firing, he crossed the compound in no great haste. Past the circle of lighted lanterns he went. Had he not taken a second quick look at the main gate on the north side Darrin would not have noticed what was happening.

Starting violently, he looked again.

Yes, that big, double gate, moved by some unseen force, was swinging open. In another instant it would admit into the compound, the vanguard of a mob of frantic yellow men.

With a gasp of terror, when he thought of the defenceless women in the yamen Ensign Dave Darrin rushed forward at a run, revolver in hand.

CHAPTER X-THE CLIMAX OF THE ATTACK

As he ran in beyond the zone of light by the gate, Dave saw more clearly through the darkness. Good reason was there for that double barrier to swing open.

At the wheel and windla.s.s of the gate stood Pembroke, both arms tugging hard and succeeding in slowly swinging the halves of the gate inward.

So intent was he upon his treacherous achievement that Pembroke neither saw nor heard the man dashing upon him.

Whack! A blow with the b.u.t.t of Darrin's revolver laid the scoundrel flat.

On to the gate dashed Dave, just as an exultant yell outside told him that the yellow mult.i.tude was about to rush in.

Slam up against the gate rushed Ensign Dave, the force of his body sending the two halves shut.

Outside the tumult increased, as scores of yellow shoulders were hurled against the barrier.

"Help! Here! Quick!" roared Darrin.

Above the tumult his voice carried hardly any distance.

The pressure of the Chinese outside must finally overcome his straining muscles as he struggled to keep the gate closed.

Just then a sailor pa.s.sed at a trot, with a message. Hearing Dave yelling for a.s.sistance, he looked at the gate and made out the figure of his officer there, trying to hold off the mult.i.tude.

"All hands to the gate!" yelled the seaman, using his hands as a trumpet. Some of those within the circle of lanterns heard, and took up the alarm.

Jackies rushed to Darrin's side, hurling themselves with all their strength against the gates. Their combined efforts seemed to be as nothing.

Three of the missionary party had hurried to the spot. There were now five men against the scores outside.

The mechanism of the gate had not been wholly opened, and that fact helped greatly.

Sailors and marines sprang up from many quarters. By this time, if the Chinese succeeded in getting through they would find themselves confronted by a platoon of rifles.

"Hold fast!" yelled Dave. "Ross, come with me!"

Officer and man rushed to the wheel that controlled the opening and closing of the gate. Seizing this, and throwing into it all their combined muscular force, they succeeded in driving the double barrier close.

"Here are the double bars!" shouted one of the marines at the gate.

"Some one took them down."

Up went the bars, which were now made fast in place, and once more the gate was securely closed.

Placing a whistle to his lips, Dave ran along the wall. Even above the Babel of voices the shrill note of the whistle was heard.

"Aye, aye, sir!" bawled down a petty officer overhead.