out "Treachery!" and some few shots were fired from the garrison. I was immediately dispatched towards our mortar-battery to stop their proceedings; but I had not gone ten yards before a shell fell within five paces of me. I immediately threw myself on my face, and hugged the ground, and thus escaped. I am persuaded that, when the shell bursts, it ascends a little, for I could hear the pieces buzzing over my head. The danger being over, I again made the best use of my legs, when I met the artillery-officer coming to see the effect of the shots which had been fired, to judge of the distance for the next eight, which were all ready. I was so completely out of breath that I could only say, "For God's sake, stop your firing!" The officer, alarmed at my appearance and manner, said, "What the devil is the matter with you, Shipp?"--"Matter! my dear fellow," I replied; "why, you have, I suppose, by this time killed the general, quartermaster-general, and half the officers in camp." Hearing this he set off at a gallop towards the fort, to see the extent of the mischief he had done from his ignorance of the parley. I followed at a slow trot, and was delighted to find that none of the shells, although eight had been thrown, had done any other injury than frightening those whom they came near. I can speak for myself, at all events; and I protest I did not at all relish the idea of being shot by the shells of our own batteries. There was something unnatural in this mode of making one's exit; and, to tell the candid truth, I was terribly scared, and the captain of the battery and I never got on such terms of intimacy again as to be within shelling distance, as I was not fond of such combustible acquaintances. After I had stopped the shelling from our battery, and was thinking of my miraculous escape, I was interrupted by an inquisitive sergeant; and, as I always made it a point of attending civilly to every man who spoke to me, I permitted him to go on. He addressed me as follows:--"Pray, was your honour there when the first shell fell, for I was after laying that self-same mortar?" "Yes," said I, "and you nearly laid me in the grave." "By the powers, but I should have been mighty sorry for that, your honour." I thanked him for his sorrow, but he continued following me towards the scene of action, and at last again broke silence. "Is all the fight over, your honour?" I said, I hoped so. "I hope not," replied he. I told him I was pretty confident of it, as the enemy were willing to give up the fort. Hearing this, he coolly replied, "Then bad luck to them, after all the trouble we have had in building and completing that sweet eight-gun battery forenent yonder." "Well, but my good fellow," I replied, "you cannot expect with reason more than they have to give."