Outside, once more the Mausers were rattling, and Connell, with a
word of parting hastily took his leave. Graydon, on the point of
returning to his post, was prevented by the girl.

"You were gentle with me even when I tried to---Don't risk your life
there. Shoot from that narrow gate," pointing aloft; "it's not so
exposed."

Bansemer dragged an altar chair up to the grated window and perched
himself upon it. The girl sat below him, holding her brother's head
in her lap. He was groaning and crying out to the soldiers to kill
him rather than permit him to fall into the hands of the natives
again.

Suddenly there was a great commotion, and crashing of timbers in
the front part of the church, followed by shouts and the rushing
of feet. Graydon dropped from his perch and ran forth into the
chancel. As he did so the banging of rifles close at hand deafened
him. In an instant he saw what had happened. The Filipinos had
charged the door and had forced it. They were crowding their way
into the church in the face of the deadly Krag-Jorgensens. The
chapel was lighted, but not from the inside. Cunning insurgents, in
the shelter of the walls, were holding great torches just outside
of the windows. Graydon could see his comrades firing at the door
from behind every conceivable barrier. Without hesitation he dashed
down the aisle and into the thick of the fray near the door.

The struggle was brief but fierce. The merciless fire of many Mausers
on the outside opened a way through the small band of defenders,