The following morning I went to breakfast with Captain Daggalier, of the old 13th regiment Bengal Native Infantry, in the large house occupied by our men, about five hundred yards from the fort. We were busily engaged upstairs securing a hearty meal, when a large three-pound shot found its way through the window of the room in which we sat, and passed under the table between my legs and those of Captain Daggalier. This convinced me that there is some advantage in having long legs. Mine were so excessively lanky, that I could only just screw them under the edge of the little camp-table; from which fact only I can still boast of having two legs. I need not say that the tea-things, breakfast, &c., were broken and upset. I joined another party, and, having finished my breakfast, I proceeded to meet the general, who had arrived to examine our approaches in this direction. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXII. The breached bastion was found to be a tough piece of masonry, extremely thick and well put together; so we pegged away at its foundation. At last some of the stones began to give warning that they were tired of the fun, and would not stand it any longer--so down they came; and those on the top, wishing to show their attachment, soon followed, and by the following day, the breach looked ascendable. When I went down to the breaching-battery, I saw my old friend, the Irish sergeant, busy laying a gun. "Well, sergeant," said I, "what do you think of the breach?" He replied, "The divel a better within a day's march." "Do you think we shall get in, sergeant?" "The divel a fear of that, for there is not a living soul but what our shells have kilt and destroyed; so that when you are in, you will have nothing to do but shoot the remainder, and take the place in a moment." "I am afraid you are too sanguine, sergeant," said I. "Not at all, your honour: you will not find ten living men in the whole fort that our shells have not destroyed. If you do, call Paddy Dogan a spalpeen." "Well," I answered, "we shall see, sergeant." "Fait!" said he, "that's more than they will; it would do their dead eyes good to take a peep at our brave boys getting up the breach." Here was a general titter at the expense of poor Pat; and he exclaimed, "Fait! you may laugh, but it's no laughing matter; how would you like to be kilt yourselves? Answer me that question."