Sahib, They Are Coming
The following account, pieced together from the Collective's own hand, records the night's action at the bungalow — the cultists' assault pressed home in two waves, and repelled at cost.
As the sortie led by His Lordship returned to the bungalow, gunfire blazed to the south of the building. The Colonel roared at the sepoys to hold their fire. Archie, the Professor, and Arbuthnott hastily prepared for the impending onslaught, shouting orders to position the firearms, ammunition and men as effectively as possible. Snider bullets ricocheted around the walls of the building.
Then a pause. The men waiting. A sepoy grimly muttered to His Lordship, "Sahib, they are coming..."
And come they did. A huge blood-curdling wave of cultists ran towards the building. Lieutenant-Colonel Arbuthnott screaming at the sepoys to hold their fire to the last minute. All held their nerve. Then the order to fire was given, all men with a target discharged, many of the cultists dropped to the ground. Yet still they came on; other sepoys with loaded weapons stepped to the windows; Archie and Sandy firing at will. After what seemed an age of cordite, powder smoke, blazing rifles, blood and screaming, the first wave was massacred, as they fought to the last man. No pause for breath as the defenders saw the next wave preparing.
The men stuck to their posts, the bodies of the slain heaped around the windows they guarded. The Professor and Arbuthnott ordered more sepoys to the southern front, and Captain Leighton joined His Lordship in the Drawing Room. The second wave came on, this time wielding Sniders. The Martini-Henrys of the sepoys blazed, His Lordship and Archie finding targets. The cultists leapt over their dead and dying like mad dogs. The front door was breached, Colonel Montgomery dispensing the cur with a shotgun. While Sandy and the Captain repelled the assault on the Drawing Room in good order, Archie had more problems in the Morning Room. The Professor dispensing one blackguard attempting to get in through the window, but unable to deter another from leaping into the room. Archie, as is his wont, duly engaged, supported by the sepoys in a vicious melee. One of the sepoys was brutally slain, and Archie took a savage wound to his shoulder. The two sepoys continued to fight, but the light of religious certainty burned in the eyes of the cultist. The Professor was ready to take him down with his shotgun but could not for fear of wounding his brothers-in-arms. After what felt like an eternity the sepoys dispensed this last fanatic, and the defenders cheered as they realised they had successfully survived the attack.
Hasty repairs were made. The front door barricaded again, and the shutters patched up where possible. The men picketed at the North reported sounds and movement near the stables once again. There was definitely something afoot. The Professor, fearing for the horses, and perhaps their only chance of escape or relief.
The session ended even later on Tuesday, November 14th, 1893. The account breaks here. What was found at the stables the Editor cannot yet say — the next paper, when recovered, may tell.