In consequence of the shallowness of the river, it had been found necessary to moor the gun-boats at a point considerably below, and out of sight of the fort. Gerald Grantham had obtained permission to leave his command, and take charge of one of the batteries, which, however, he relinquished on the day of the assault, having successfully petitioned to be permitted to join the attack as a volunteer. In the dress of a grenadier soldier, disabled during the siege, he now joined the party of animated officers, who, delighted at the prospect of being brought once more in close contact with their enemies, after so many wearing days of inaction—were seated at a rude but plentiful repast in Captain Cranstoun's tent, and indulging in remarks which, although often uttered without aim or ill-nature, are as often but too bitter subject of after self-reproach to those who have uttered them. Of those who had originally set out on the expedition, the only officer of the Forty-first Regiment absent was Henry Grantham, who, having been slightly wounded at the Miami, had, much against his inclination, been ordered back to Amherstburg, in charge of the sick and wounded of the detachment, and this so suddenly, that he had not had an opportunity of taking leave of his brother.
"Ha! Gerald, my fine fellow," exclaimed Captain Molineux, as the youth now joined their circle, "so you have clapped on the true harness at last. I always said that your figure became a red jacket a devilish deal better than a blue. But what new freak is this? Had you not a close enough berth to Jonathan in the Miami, without running the risk of a broken head with us to-day in his trenches?"
"No such good luck is there in store for my juniors, I fancy," replied Grantham, swallowing off a goblet of wine which had been presented to him—"but if I do fall, it will be in good company. Although the American seems to lie quietly within his defences, there is that about him which promises us rather a hot reception."
"So much the better," said Villiers; "there will be broken heads for some of us. Who do you think we have booked for a place to the other world?"
Gerald made no answer, but his look and manner implied that he understood himself to be the party thus favored.
"Not so," returned Villiers, "we can't afford to spare you yet—besides, the death of a blue jacket can in no way benefit us. What's the use of 'a bloody war and a sickly season,' that standard toast at every West India mess, if the juniors are to go off, and not the seniors?—Cranstoun's the man we've booked."
"Captain Cranstoun, I have the honor of wishing you a safe passage, and speedy promotion in Heaven," said Middlemore, draining off his glass. "Devilish good port this of yours! By the bye, as you have a better port in view, you cannot do better than assign over what is left of this to me."
"Thank you, Mr. Middlemore," returned Cranstoun, drily yet good-humoredly, "yet as you are attached to my division, you will perhaps run just the same risk; and as, perhaps, you will not require more wine than we have taken to-day, I will pledge you in a last cup a safe passage to Heaven, where I trust you will find credit for better qualities than you possess as a punster."
"What," asked Gerald, with an unfeigned surprise, when the laugh against Middlemore had subsided, "and is it really in his own wine that you have all been thus courteously pledging Captain Cranstoun's death?"
"Even so," said Middlemore, rallying and returning to the attack, "he invited us all to lunch in his tent, and how could we better repay him for opening his hampers, than by returning his spirit scot-free and unhampered to Heaven?"