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Updated: May 12, 2025
For some time again they stood as though listening, till Heywood spoke: "Holding your own, are you, by the water gate?" "Oh, yes," replied Forrester, rousing slightly. "All quiet there. No more arrows. Converts behaving splendidly. Two or three have begged for guns." "Give 'em this." Heywood skipped up the ladder, to return with a rifle. "And this belt Kempner's.
He had returned safely, with an ancient musket, a bag of bullets, a petroleum squirt, and a small bundle of pole-axes, and was making his tour of the defenses, when he stumbled over Rudolph, who knelt on the ground under what in old days had been the chapel, and near what now was Kempner's grave. He was not kneeling in devotion, for he took Heywood by the arm, and made him stoop.
Loose earth underfoot warned them not to stumble over the new-raised mound beside the pit, which yawned slightly blacker than the night. Kempner's grave had not been quieter. The compradore stood whispering: they had found the tunnel empty, because, he thought, the sappers were gone out to eat their chow. "We'll see, anyway," said Heywood, stripping off his coat.
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