Two of the native park patrol were hastening toward the gate from another direction.

Outside the huge, barred gate a throng of men and women were congregated.

Some of the men were vigorously slashing away at the bars with sledges and crow-bars; others were crouching with rifles levelled--in the other direction! "It's Bowles!" shouted Chase eagerly.
The situation at once became clear to those inside the walls.

Bowles and his friends, a score all told, had managed to reach the upper gate and were now clamouring for admission, beset on all sides by the pickets who were watching the chateau.

Bowles, with his pathetic red jacket, could be distinguished in the midst of his huddled followers, shouting frantically for haste on the part of those inside.