"The party arrived near the camp at midnight, when one of their spies informed the commanding officer, that the troops which had marched against M. D'Autueil had returned; but he, imputing the information either to cowardice or treachery, gave no credit to the spy, and proceeded; they were challenged by the advanced guard of English sepoys, on which the officer of the deserters, an Irishman, stept out and told them, that he was sent by Major Lawrence to reinforce Captain Clive: and the rest of the deserters, speaking English likewise, confirmed the assertion, and persuaded the sepoys so fully, that they omitted the usual precaution of asking the counter-word, which would certainly have discovered the stratagem, and sent one of their body to conduct the enemy to the head-quarters. They continued their march through a part of the Mahratta camp, without giving or receiving any disturbance, until they came to the lesser pagoda. Here they were challenged by the sentinels, and by others posted in a neighbouring choultry to the north of it, in which Captain Clive lay asleep. They returned the challenge by a volley into each place, and immediately entered the pagoda, putting all they met to the sword. Captain Clive, starting out of his sleep, and not conceiving it possible that the enemy could have advanced into the centre of his camp, imputed the firing to his own sepoys alarmed by some attack at the outskirts; he, however, ran to the upper pagoda, where the greatest part of his Europeans were quartered, who, having likewise taken the alarm, were under arms; and he immediately returned with two hundred of them to the choultry. Here he now discovered a large body of sepoys drawn up, facing the south, and firing at random. Their position, which looked to the enemy's encampment, joined to their confusion, confirmed him in his conjecture, that they were his own troops who had taken some unnecessary alarm. In this supposition, he drew up his Europeans within twenty yards of their rear, and then, going alone amongst them, ordered them to cease, upbraiding some with the panic he supposed them to have taken, and even striking others: at length, one of the sepoys, who understood a little of the French language, discovering that he was an Englishman, attacked and wounded him in two places with his sword; but, finding himself overpowered, ran away to the lower pagoda. Captain Clive, exasperated at this insolence from a man whom he imagined to be in his own service, followed him to the gate, where, to his great surprise, he was accosted by six Frenchmen. His usual presence of mind did not fail him on this critical occasion, but, suggesting to him all that had happened, he told the Frenchmen with great composure, that he was come to offer them terms, and if they would look out they would perceive the pagoda surrounded with his whole army, who were determined to give no quarter if any resistance were made. The firmness with which these words were delivered made