But, as he listened anxiously to
the sounds of conflict, it was clear that the tide of battle was
raging nearer to him now than on any previous occasion.
He waited anxiously, his heart beating faster and faster, as each
minute the firing grew nearer and nearer. He was in ignorance of the
exact nature of the attack until, as on the last occasion, the Russian
soldiers came back by twos and threes and re-entered the casemate.
"What is going on in the front?" McKay asked.
"The enemy are advancing up the ravine. We have been driven out of the
cemetery, and I doubt whether we shall hold our ground."
"They are coming on in thousands!" cried a new arrival. "This place is
not safe. Let us fall back to the Karabel barrack."
"You had better come too," said one soldier thoughtfully to McKay, as
he gathered up the long skirts of his grey great-coat to allow of more
expeditious retreat.
"All right," said McKay, "I will follow."
And taking advantage of the confusion, during which the sentries on
the casemate had withdrawn, he left his prison-chamber and got out
into the main road.
The fusilade was now close at hand; bullets whistled continually
around and pinged with a dull thud as they flattened against the rocky
ground.
The assailants were making good progress. McKay, as he crouched below
a wall on the side of the road, could hear the glad shouts of his
comrades as, with short determined rushes, they charged forward from
point to point.
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