Bathurst's face was rigid and ghastly pale.

The Major hurried to him.
"My dear Bathurst," he said, "I think you had better go below.

You will find plenty of work to do there." "My work is here," Bathurst said, as if speaking to himself: "it must be done." The Major could not at the moment pay further attention to him, for a roar of fire broke out round the inclosure, as from the ruined bungalows and from every bush the Sepoys, who had crept up, now commenced the attack in earnest, while the defenders lying behind their parapet replied slowly and steadily, aiming at the puffs of smoke as they darted out.

His attention was suddenly called by a shout from the Doctor.
"Are you mad, Bathurst?
Lie down, man; you a throwing away your life." Turning round, the Major saw Bathurst standing up--right by the parapet, facing the point where the enemy fire was hottest.

He held a rifle in his hand but did not attempt to fire; his figure swayed slightly to and fro.
"Lie down," the Major shouted, "lie down, sir;" and then as Bathurst still stood unmoved he was about to run forward, when the Doctor from one side and Captain Forster from the other rushed towards him through a storm of bullets, seized him in their arms, and dragged him back to the center of the terrace.
"Nobly done, gentlemen," the Major said, as they laid Bathurst down; "it was almost miraculous your not being hit." Bathurst had struggled fiercely for a moment, and then his resistance had suddenly ceased, and he had been dragged back like a wooden figure.
His eyes were closed now.
"Has he been hit, Doctor ?" the Major asked.