British troops were pouring through the tangle of streets pursuing small bands of the enemy, some of whom still had enough of their wits about them to turn and fire occasional shots. A few had already emerged from the far gate and were desperately running for the cover of the nearest topes to escape the groups of cavalry that encircled the town ready to ride down any Mahratta warriors that came their way. Once he was satisfied that only a handful had managed to reach the fort Arthur turned away from the scene. The grenadier leaning against the parapet was staring at him with a frozen expression of agony. Arthur leaned over him and touched his shoulder.There was no reaction and he realised that death had claimed him only a few moments earlier. Arthur straightened up and gazed sadly at the man. An hour ago he had been marching towards this small unregarded town, no doubt swapping tall tales and jokes with his companions; an earthy vibrant being, perhaps with a wife or sweetheart waiting for him back in Scotland. Now, thanks to an order from Arthur, he was dead.

He pulled out his watch and glanced at the hands. It was barely twenty minutes since the attack had begun and already the town had fallen. The enemy had suffered hundreds of casualties, and there would be many British wounded as well. But if, as Arthur intended, the swift and decisive assault served to discourage the defenders of the fortress, then a greater number of lives could be saved in the long run. It was a peculiar train of thought and he wondered if other generals indulged in such moral computations to justify their decisions. Now that the action was over, a familiar weariness settled on him and with a sigh he turned his mind to the capture of the fortress as he descended the stairs inside the bastion.

Over the next two nights a battery was constructed three hundred yards from the fortress. Arthur and his engineers had examined the fortifications in some detail through their telescopes before settling on a section where the masonry appeared to be weak and crumbling in places. The killadar commanding the fortress was clearly unversed in modern siege warfare, or had chosen to ignore the advice of the French officers serving under him. There was no attempt to fire on the British engineers and by dawn on the second day the battery was complete and guns, powder and ammunition had been hauled into position. As soon as there was enough light to gauge the fall of shot Arthur gave the order to open fire. There was a rolling crash as the twelve-pounders belched flame and smoke while Arthur stood to one side and squinted through his telescope at the fortress. He saw the iron balls strike home and chips of masonry explode from the face of the wall. Lowering his telescope he nodded to the officer in command of the battery.