“What was the governor's name, sir?” inquired Moriarty, pursuing his train of doubt.
“You must excuse me, captain, from naming him,” said Loftus, with readiness, “after incautiously saying he was timid.”
“Hear, hear!” said all the friends.
“But to pursue my story, sir:—the guns were loaded, and with the intensity of the heat went off, one after another, and quite riddled one of his Majesty's frigates that was lying in the harbour.”
“That's one of the most difficult riddles to comprehend I ever heard,” said Moriarty.
“The frigate answered the riddle with her guns, sir, I promise you.”
“What!” exclaimed Moriarty, “fire on the fort of her own king?”
“There is an honest principle exists among sailors, sir, to return fire under all circumstances, wherever it comes from, friend or foe. Fire, of which they know the value so well, they won't take from anybody.”
“And what was the consequence?” said Moriarty.
“Sir, it was the most harmless broadside ever delivered from the ports of a British frigate; not a single house or human being was injured—the day was so hot that every sentinel had sunk on the ground in utter exhaustion—the whole population were asleep; the only loss of life which occurred was that of a blue macaw, which belonged to the commandant's daughter.”