“Not far wrong, my boy, but I’m afraid it will not make us grow, though,” answered Adair. “But I say, the shot do pepper, though.”
They did, indeed. Numbers of the marines and sailors were knocked over.
“There’s another poor fellow down,” cried Adair, stooping down to help up the man, but his aid was of no avail. A deep groan escaped from his bosom, his musket fell from his grasp, and he was dead. Adair with a sigh, for the marine had been his servant, let go his hand and sprang on. In vain the British and their allies fired away at every loophole and embrasure where a man’s head or firelock was to be seen. The enemy rattled away as rapidly as ever, and no impression seemed to be made on the walls, while numbers of the storming-party were falling one after the other around. Now a poor fellow would spring up into the air shot through the head, and now would fall down with a groan, and rolling over, clutch convulsively at the earth; one would utter a sharp shriek as he fell; others, with the blood streaming from their limbs, would endeavour to scramble on till they sank with a cry of pain exhausted to the ground. The midshipmen now began to comprehend more clearly than they had ever before done the stern realities of warfare. They got within thirty yards of the walls when they found themselves in front of a crenelled outwork with a deep ditch before it. In vain the officers looked for some part of the castle wall which might prove practicable. Not a spot appeared accessible, and nothing but the ugly-looking muzzles of the enemy’s muskets were visible through the loopholes. Most unwillingly was the command given to retire, and most unwillingly was it obeyed.
“I say, Murray, I don’t like this—to have to turn my tail on those red-capped gentry,” exclaimed Adair.
“We must obey orders, at all events,” observed Murray. “Steady, my men, steady,” he added, as some of the sailors were turning round to take a parting shot at the foe.
The marines were drawn off in beautiful order, and the whole party were soon out of the reach of shot. As they were pulling off, Murray and Adair remarked that a flag which had been planted in the garden, in front of the fort, was left flying.
“That will never do, the enemy will be getting it,” cried Adair. “I say, Alick, let you and I go and see if we cannot pull it down, and carry it off.”
“With all my heart,” answered Murray. “Let us put back at once; we must ask Captain A—’s leave as we pass his boat. He will not refuse it, I am sure.”
The crew of their boat were delighted at hearing what the midshipmen had resolved to do, and pulled back to the shore with a will.
As they passed Captain A—’s boat Adair sang out, “There’s an English flag left flying on the shore there, sir; those red-capped fellows will boast that they took it from us if we let it stay. May we go and get it?”