The heads of the files were close upon him when his wandering thoughts were suddenly recalled. Too much surprised to challenge or call an alarm, he levelled his fusee at Allen’s towering figure and pulled the trigger. The life of the bold chieftain hung for an instant in the trembling balance of fate, but not a spark followed the stroke of the flint. The guard turned and fled through the open wicket with Allen and Arnold, side by side, close upon his heels. After them came Nathan; and the crowding files of men swarmed through the narrow gate in an impetuous rush, and, guided by the boy, onto the parade. This was enclosed on three sides by lofty stone barracks. Here they caught a last glimpse of the flying sentry dodging into a bombproof, like a woodchuck into a hole. Another sentinel made a bayonet thrust at Nathan, when Allen’s sword fell quick as a thunderbolt upon the man’s head in a downright blow that must have cleft the skull, had it not glanced on a metal comb that held his hair in place. The assailants quickly formed in two ranks, facing outward upon the east and west lines of barracks, and gave three cheers that made the gray walls ring with quick, rebounding echoes. “Quick, my boy, show me the commandant’s quarters,” said Allen, and his guide led to a flight of outer stairs arising to the upper story of the south barracks. Ascending them, Allen shouted: “Come forth, commandant, come forth.” But receiving no answer he thundered on the door with the pommel of his sword and shouted still louder: “Come out of your hole, you damned old skunk,” and thereupon the door was drawn a little ajar. Allen flung it wide open, and disclosed the bewildered face and undignified figure of Captain Delaplace, clad only in his shirt and nightcap, with his breeches in his hand. Behind him stood his night-gowned wife, her pretty face pale with alarm. For a moment the captain gaped at his unceremonious visitor. “Who are you and what do you want?” “I want the Fort and all it contains. Surrender, instantly.” “Surrender? Is this a mad joke or treason?” “Neither; but honest men claiming their own. Surrender.” “In whose name? By whose authority?” asked Delaplace, assured of the earnestness of the summons. “In the name of the Great Jehovah and the Continental Congress.” “I know no such authority.” “Sir, do you deny the authority of the King of Kings? And Congress seemeth to have some power here this morning. Waste no more time. We are four to your one. Do you surrender?” “I see no choice. But it consoles me that you rebels will hang for this.”