"Tell them to go to ----, and then send them there," said the Captain, angrily, perceiving that Gazaway's feelings inclined toward a capitulation. "Send out an officer and escort to meet the fellows and bring in their message. They mustn't be allowed to come inside." "No, no; of course not. We couldn't git very good terms if they should see how few we be," returned the Major, unable to see the matter in any other light than that of his own terrors. "Well, Cap, you go and meet the feller. No, you stay here; I want to talk to you. Here, where's that Louisianny Lieutenant? Oh, Lieutenant, you go out to that feller with jest as many men 's he's got; stop him 's soon 's you git to him, and send in his business. Send it in by one of your men, you know; and take a white flag, or han'kerch'f, or suthin'." When Gazaway was in a perturbed state of mind, his conversation had an unusual twang of the provincialisms of tone and grammar amidst which he had been educated, or rather had grown up without an education. At sight of the Union flag of truce, the rebel one, now only a quarter of a mile from the fort, halted under the shadow of an evergreen oak by the roadside. After a parley of a few minutes, the Louisiana Lieutenant returned, beaded with perspiration, and delivered to Gazaway a sealed envelope. The latter opened it with fingers which worked as awkwardly as a worn-out pair of tongs, read the enclosed note with evident difficulty, cast a troubled eye up and down the river, as if looking in vain for help, beckoned Colburne to follow him, and led the way to a deserted angle of the fort. "I say, Cap," he whispered, "we've got to surrender." Colburne looked him sternly in the face, but could not catch his cowardly eye. "Take care, Major," he said. Gazaway started as if he had been threatened with personal violence. "You are a ruined man if you surrender this fort," pursued Colburne. The Major writhed his Herculean form, and looked all the anguish which so mean a nature was capable of feeling; for it suddenly occurred to him that if he capitulated he might never be promoted, and never go to Congress. "What in God's name shall I do?" he implored. "They've got six thous'n' men." "Call the officers together, and put it to vote." "Well, you fetch 'em, Cap. I swear I'm too sick to stan' up." Down he sat in the dust, resting his elbows on his knees, and his head between his hands. Colburne sought out the officers, seven in number, besides himself, and all, as it chanced, Lieutenants. "Gentlemen," he said, "we are dishonored cowards if we surrender this fort without fighting." "Dam'd if we don't have the biggest kind of a scrimmage first," returned the Louisianian. The afflicted Gazaway rose to receive them, opened the communication of the rebel general, dropped it, picked it up, and handed it to Colburne, saying, "Cap, you read it."