Ned remembered being struck down with a clubbed rifle, and with a last effort threw himself on the nearest gun, clinging desperately to its breech. There was a blank, then some one was trying gently to drag his arms apart. He resisted for the moment, and Tim's voice said coaxingly, "If you're not killed entirely, leave go to oblige me. I've got to carry you out of this, and it'll break my heart sure if you want me to take that gun you seem so attached to as well." Ned relaxed limply, and was carried in to where the wounded of both armies lay, with Ferguson and a few helpers doing the little they could for them, as the surgeons had not yet come up. The fort was in quiet possession of the English. Only the women, to whom no one paid any attention, still screamed dismally--"The British and the Indians! They'll murder us! They'll scalp us all!" A redcoated sentry stood by the gate, the color of his uniform not visible to the man who galloped up. Leonard had heard the few shots fired, and supposing there was a riot in the garrison rode up to see to it. Challenged by the sentry, he gave the countersign, and was instantly ordered to dismount. "You thundering blockhead," cried the enraged American. "Can't you see I am the commanding officer?" "Dismount, sir," repeated the man as he levelled his musket, "I am a British soldier." The dumfounded officer obeyed, and was escorted to the slightly wounded English colonel, to whom he formally surrendered the fort. "Sure, and this is the lucky day of my life," exclaimed Tim as he suddenly entered the hospital. "There'll be promotions for those who are looking for them, and plunder for the lot of us. For the love of Heaven somebody give me a sack. They've unlocked the stores, and we can plunder till daylight. There's food enough for twenty armies, and heaps of merchandise sorts of things, that'll sell for a lot in Upper Canada now--needles and pins and everything. It's too bad that even a heretic priest can't plunder." Ferguson's helpers all followed Tim as he went off with his sack, and Ned roused himself from the dull aching stupor that wrapped his senses. "Don't stay here just for me," he said faintly to the Methodist, "This isn't like plundering private property." "You heard what Tim said," smiled Ferguson, "I must live up to my priestly reputation, though I would like to take something, this time, for I am a poor man, yet it wouldn't do." Morning came; the quartermaster took possession of all the stores that were not in the sacks of Tim and his comrades, and Dr. Tam was at his ghastly work of probing and operating--for this was before the mercy of chloroform. Ned, waiting his turn on the surgeon's terrible table, heard Ferguson saying to the colonel--"We need, sir, to show by our lives, our gratitude to God for the mercy of our victory last night; for it was a most foolhardy venture."