I would advise all young soldiers to ascertain this grand point, whenever they can do so without risk of discovery or personal danger, that, when storming on dark nights, they may know where to run, and where to walk. I need not say that Captain Cruikshank, who was a most gallant officer, readily assented to my proposal. We crept down within a hundred yards of the bastion, and were so close, that we were observed peeping by those upon the wall. One of them said, "Come on; do not be afraid; we will not fire on you." This was repeated by several others, who stood on the walls. We asked them what they wanted by inviting us to go nearer; and they told us that, if we would cease firing, they would give up the fort. We replied that, if they were really inclined to do so, we would come nearer, and listen to their proposals and wishes. They swore most positively it was the wish of the keeledar and garrison. For myself, I scarcely thought that their oaths were to be trusted; but Captain Cruikshank said, if I would go, he would; so I had no alternative left, as, of course, after such an invitation, I could not say no. We accordingly approached close to the bastion, and they faithfully promised to surrender the fort, if we would cease firing. As we now felt assured that they were in earnest, their wishes were promptly communicated to the commander; and Brigadier-General Watson came down to where we had been standing, when it was settled, that all the occupants of the fort should be permitted to march out, with their families and private property, but that they should lay down their arms. This they readily assented to, and, as a pledge of their good faith, they undertook to send out the keeledar immediately. Our occupying-party was in readiness in the trenches. We, therefore, with the general, quarter-master-general, and several others, with about twenty soldiers, waited at the outer gate for the keeledar, who at last arrived, a poor hoary-headed old man, who had been bound for proposing to give up the fort before we commenced the siege. For having given utterance to such a proposal, his mutinous troops had kept him confined till that moment. When he was liberated, he looked the picture of misery and despair. His white beard was clotted together from weeping, and he seemed almost starved. We had given the garrison to understand that, if any treachery was attempted, the governor's life should be the forfeit. At this juncture, a most untoward circumstance occurred. An eight-mortar battery erected in the village, being uninformed of this parley, opened their new shelling fortification, to try the distance. The first shell fell within five yards of General Watson's feet, and exploded; but, strange to say, we all escaped. Another fell on the tree under which we were standing, and another burst over our heads; but it miraculously happened that no one was hurt. All was consternation. The poor old keeledar cried