“Surrender!” I laughed in scorn. “Why, my dear captain, you have made no impression upon us yet, while we have scarred your ships a bit.” “That is a fact,” he said. “You have handled your eighteen-pounders well.” “Twenty-four pounders,” I corrected. “I did not know they were so heavy,” he said. “That accounts for the strength of your fire.” He seemed pleased at the discovery. It made an excuse for his side. “No doubt General Arnold can do something with a battery of twelve twenty-four pounders,” he began. “Eighteen twenty-four pounders,” I corrected. “You can not see all the muzzles.” He looked very thoughtful. I knew that he was impressed by the exceeding strength of our battery. “But about the proposition to surrender,” he began. “I will not take such an offer to General Arnold,” I exclaimed indignantly. “In fact, I have my instructions from him. He’ll sink every ship you have, or be blown to pieces himself.” Captain Middleton, after this emphatic declaration, which I am sure I made in a most convincing manner, seemed to think further talk would be a waste, and gave the word to his oarsmen to pull back to his ship. “Good day,” he said very courteously. “Good day,” said I with equal courtesy. Then I climbed back up the cliff and re-enforced the garrison. I watched Middleton as he approached the flagship. He mounted to the deck and the officers crowded around him. In a half hour the ships bore up again, formed line of battle, and opened upon us a third terrific bombardment, which we endured with the same calmness and success. When they grew tired we gave them a few shots, which did some execution, and then, to our infinite delight, they slipped their cables and fell back down the river. “When they find out what we really are they’ll come again to-morrow and blow us to splinters,” said Whitestone. “Yes, but we’ll be far away from here then,” said I, “and we may have held them back a day at least. Why, man, even an hour is worth much to our army up yonder!” We were in a state of supreme satisfaction, also in a state of hurry. There was nothing more for us to do in the south, and it was our business to hasten northward with the news we had. I rejoiced greatly. I hoped that Clinton would continue to fiddle his time away below Albany, impressed by the risks he was taking, thanks to our brave battery. We found our horses nearly dead from fright, but a few kicks restored life, and we rode northward in all haste. At Albany we changed horses, evaded questions, and resumed our ride. In the night we reached our own camp, and as soon as we had reported sought the rest we needed so badly, and, I think, deserved so well. CHAPTER XIV. THE PURSUIT OF CHUDLEIGH.