There Lawrence had died; here at the top of the narrow lane had stood Johannes's house whence Nebo the Nailer had watched day after day with his rifle in his hand.

Hardly a man, be he never so swift, could cross that little lane from one quarter of the Residency to another, so long as daylight lasted and so long as Nebo the Nailer stood behind the shutters of Johannes's house.

Shere Ali was fired by the story of that siege.

By so little was the garrison saved.

Ahmed Ismail led him down to a corner of the grounds and once more a sentry barred the way.
"This is the graveyard," said Ahmed Ismail, and Shere Ali, looking up, stepped back with a look upon his face which Ahmed Ismail did not understand.
"Huzoor!" he said anxiously, and Shere Ali turned upon him with an imperious word.
"Silence, dog!" he cried.