Then a window was dashed open, a voice shouted, "Help!" and then the strife continued as before.
"Come on, Archer," Hawtry exclaimed.

"There are some of our fellows in a row with these Greeks." The door was fastened, but the boys burst in a window next to it, leapt into the room, groped their way to the door, and then finding the stairs, hurried up.

On the landing a dim oil light was burning, but it needed no light to indicate the room in which the struggle was still proceeding.

The door stood ajar, and the boys, with drawn dirks, dashed into the room.
It was a large one.

In the centre was a table on which were strewn several packs of cards; some chairs lay on the ground; the oil from an overturned lamp was forming a great black stain on the green table-cloth.