I glanced from him to Grylls, who stood against the wall with his arms folded. He wasted no words, but answered me with a gloomy nod. Now I turned to the troopers, from whom--as men of mean station--I confess that I looked for no such folly of magnanimity as to lay down their lives for an old man, who, besides, was begging us to yield him up. Judge my amazement then when a red-bearded fellow called Wilkes spoke up with a big oath, growling that "surrender" was no word for his stomach. "Suppose we belonged to your own troop, Captain--what would you look for us to answer?" "In general," I told him, "I should look for my troop to follow where I dared to lead. But this is a different matter----" A man by Wilkes' side cut me short. "Wounds alive, Sir! You don't command the only men in the army! Didn't his Majesty pick and choose us for special service? Very well, then; tell the old devil to fire and be damned to him!" I ran my eyes over their faces. "I thank you all, friends," said I: "and because of your answer I, for one, shall die--if God wills it--in good hope for England." "Time is up," the Provost-Marshal's voice announced from below. "Do you submit, Sir?" "No!" I shouted, and all shouted together with me; nor did one or two forbear to add to their defiance words of the grossest insult. I motioned to them to copy me and lay themselves down at full length above the strongest beams: and, so lying, I commended my soul to God. This waiting upon the slow-match was the worst of all. "Will it never come?" groaned one man, clenching his hands.