Alroy
sallied forth at the head of these fresh troops. His presence decided a
result which was perhaps never doubtful. The division of Abidan fought
with the desperation that became their fortunes. The carnage was
dreadful, but their discomfiture complete. They no longer acted
in masses, or with any general system. They thought only of
self-preservation, or of selling their lives at the dearest cost. Some
dispersed, some escaped. Others entrenched themselves in houses, others
fortified the bazaar. All the horrors of war in the streets were now
experienced. The houses were in flames, the thoroughfares flowed with
blood.
At the head of a band of faithful followers, Abidan proved himself, by
his courage and resources, worthy of success. At length, he was alone,
or surrounded only by his enemies. With his back against a building in a
narrow street, where the number of his opponents only embarrassed them,
the three foremost of his foes fell before his irresistible scimitar.
The barricaded door yielded to the pressure of the multitude. Abidan
rushed up the narrow stairs, and, gaining a landing-place, turned
suddenly round, and cleaved the skull of his nearest pursuer. He hurled
the mighty body at his followers, and, retarding their advance, himself
dashed onward, and gained the terrace of the mansion.
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