Time was an important object with the English general; reinforcements were daily looked for by the French; indeed it was rumored that tidings had come of their having sailed from Toulon, for, with an unparalleled audacity and fortune combined, a French frigate had sailed the preceding day through the midst of our fleet, and, amid the triumphant cheerings of the shore batteries, hoisted the tricolor in the face of our assembled ships. Scarcely had the launch reached the admiral's ship, when a signal ordered the presence of all officers in command to attend a council of war. The proceedings were quickly terminated, and in less than half an hour, the various boats were seen returning to their respective ships, the resolution having been taken to attack that very morning, or, in the words of the general order, “to bring the troops as soon as possible before the enemy.” Never were tidings more welcomed; the delay, brief as it was, had stimulated the ardor of the men to the highest degree, and they actually burned with impatience to be engaged. The dispositions for attack were simple, and easily followed. A sloop of war, anchored just beyond the reach of cannon-shot, was named as a point of rendezvous. By a single blue light at her mizzen, the boats were to move towards her; three lights at the maintop would announce that they were all assembled; a single gun would then be the signal to make for the shore. Strict orders were given that no unusual lights should be seen from the ships, nor any unwonted sight or sound betray extraordinary preparation. The men were mustered by the half-light in use on board, the ammunition distributed in silence, and every precaution taken that the attack should have the character of a surprise. These orders were well and closely followed; but so short was the interval, and so manifold the arrangements, it was already daylight before the rendezvous was accomplished. If the plan of debarkation was easily comprehended, that of the attack was not less so. Nelson once summed up a “general order,” by saying, “The captain will not make any mistake who lays his ship alongside of an enemy of heavier metal.” So Abercrombie's last instructions were, “Whenever an officer may be in want of orders, let him assault an enemy's battery.” These were to be carried by the bayonet alone, and, of the entire force, not one man landed with a loaded musket. A few minutes after seven the signal was given, and the boats moved off. The sun was high, a light breeze fanned the water, the flags and streamers of the ships-of-war floated proudly out as the flotilla stood for the shore; in glorious rivalry they pulled through the surf, each eager to be first, and all the excitement of a race was imparted to this enterprise of peril.