We were taken to the guard-room, where we remained shut up for the night. The next morning one of the cuirassiers looked into our cell. I asked him whether we could not have something to eat. "Cela ne vaut pas la peine. Mon ami, vous n'aurez pas le temps pour la digestion; dans une demie-heure vous serez fusilles." "May I ask the English of that, Captain Keene?" replied Cross. "Yes, it is very pleasant. He says that it's not worth while eating anything, as we shall be shot in half an hour." "Well, I suppose they'll shoot us first, and try us afterwards," replied Cross. "Won't they give us a reason?" "I suspect not, Cross. I am sorry that I have got you into this scrape; as for myself, I care little about it." "I am sorry for poor Jane, sir," replied Cross; "but we all owe Heaven a death; and, after all, it's not worth making a fuss about." Our conversation was here interrupted by a party of French soldiers, who opened the door and ordered us to follow them. We had not far to go, for we were led out to the Grand Place, before the prison, where we found the French troops drawn up, and General Moraud, with his officers round him, standing in the centre. At twenty yards' distance, and surrounded by the troops, which did not amount to more than three hundred, were thirty of the principal inhabitants of the town, pinioned, and handkerchiefs tied over their eyes, preparatory to their being shot; this being the terrible example that the governor had threatened. "Look, Cross," said I, "what a handful of men these Frenchmen have retaken the town with. Why, if we had resisted, we might have laughed at them." "They won't laugh any more, I expect," replied Bob. "_Allons_," said the corporal to me. "Where?" replied I. "To your friends, there," replied he, pointing to the town's-people, who were about to be shot. "I wish to speak to the general," replied I, resisting. "No, no: you must go." "I will speak to the general," replied I, pushing the corporal on one side, and walking to where the general was standing. "Well," said the general, fiercely. "I wish to know, sir," replied I, "by what law you are guided in shooting us. We are English officers, here on duty to assist against the French, and at the most can only be prisoners of war. Upon what grounds do you order us to be shot?" "As spies," replied the general. "I am no spy, sir; I am a post-captain in the English navy, who joined with the seamen saved from the wreck of my frigate in the attack upon Cuxhaven, and there is my boatswain, who came up with me to go to Hamburg. At all events, I am fully justified in siding against the French: and to shoot us will be a murder, which will not fail to be revenged." "You may pass yourself off as the captain of a frigate, but your dress disproves it, and I have better information. You are two spies, and smugglers, and therefore you will be shot."