"Oh, oh, oh!" ejaculated St. Clair, stopping his ears and throwing up his eyes; "surely, Mr. Middlemore, if you are not shot this day, it must be that you were born to be hanged—no man can perpetrate so horrible a pun, and expect to live."
"I'm hanged if I am, then," returned the other; "but, talking of being shot—is there another shot in the locker, Cranstoun—-another bottle of port?"
"The shot that is reserved for you, will bring you acquainted with another locker than Cranstoun's, I suspect," said Villiers, "one Mr. David Jones's locker—hit there, eh?"
The low roll of a muffled drum suddenly recalled the party from their trifling to considerations of a graver interest. It was the signal for forming the columns of attack. In a moment the tone, the air of ribaldry, was exchanged for a seriousness that befitted the occasion—and it seemed as if a momentary reproach passed over the minds of those who had most amused themselves at the expense of Cranstoun, for each, as he quitted the tent, gave his extended hand to his host, who pressed it in a manner to show all was forgiven.
The English batteries had been constructed on the skirt of the wood surrounding the fort, from which latter they were separated by a meadow covered with long grass, about six hundred yards across at the narrowest point. Behind these the columns of attack, three in number, were now rapidly and silently formed. To that commanded by Captain Cranstoun, on the extreme left, and intended to assault the fort at the strongest point, Gerald Grantham had attached himself, in the simple dress, as we have observed, of a private soldier, and armed with a common musket. In passing, with the former officer, to take his position in front of the column, he was struck by the utter want of means for executing with success the duty assigned to the several divisions. Each column was provided with a certain number of axemen, selected to act as pioneers; but not one of the necessary implements was in a condition to be used: neither had a single fascine or ladder been provided, although it was well known that a deep ditch remained to be passed before the axes, inefficient as they were, could be brought into use.
"Such," said Captain Cranstoun, with a sneer of much bitterness, "are the pitiful things on which hang the lives of our brave fellows. No doubt the despatches will say a great deal about the excellent arrangements for attack—but if you do not fall, Gerald, I hope you will make a proper representation of the affair. As you belong to the other service, there is little fear the General can hurt your promotion for merely speaking the truth. A General, indeed!—who'll say Fortune is not blind to make a General of such as he?"
It was not an usual thing for Cranstoun to express himself thus in regard to his superiors; but he was really vexed at the idea of the sacrifice of human life that must attend this wantonness of neglect and imbecility of arrangement. He had moreover taken wine enough, not in any way to intoxicate, but sufficient to thaw his habitual caution and reserve. Fearless as his sword, he cared not for his own life; but, although a strict officer, he was ever attentive to the interests of his men, who in their turn, admired him for his cool, unflinching courage, and would have dared anything under the direction of their captain.
It was evident that the contempt of the sailor for the capacity of the leader, to whom it was well known all the minute arrangements were submitted, was not one whit inferior to what was entertained by the brave and honest Cranstoun. He, however, merely answered, as they both assumed their places in front, and with the air of one utterly indifferent to these disadvantages.
"No matter, Cranstoun, the greater the obstacles we have to contend against, the more glorious will be our victory. Where you lead, however, we shall not be long in following."
"Hem! since it is to be a game of follow-my-leader," said Middlemore, who had now joined them, "I must not be far behind. A month's pay with either of you I reach the stockade first."