“But of course,” says Commander Patterson, “he will be overcome in the end.” The General nods to this. He does not expect Lieutenant Jones to defend the city alone. Commodore Patterson continues: “There are the schooner _Carolina_ and the ship _Louisiana_ in the river, but they are out of commission and have no crews.” “Enlist crews at once!” urges the General. The General appoints Mr. Livingston to his staff, and the pair make a tour of the suburbs and the flat, marshy regions round about. The General is alert, inquisitive; he is studying the strategic advantages and disadvantages of the place. When he returns he orders a muster of the city's military strength for the next day. The review occurs, and the General declares himself pleased with the display. Commodore Patterson comes to say that, while the streets are full of sailors, not one will enlist. The General asks the Legislature to suspend the habeas corpus. That done, he will organize press gangs and enlist those reluctant “volunteers” by force. The Legislature refuses, and the General's eyes begin to sparkle. “To-morrow, Ned,” says he, “I shall clap your city under martial law.” “But, my dear General,” urges Mr. Livingston, who, being a lawyer, reveres the law, “you haven't the authority.” “But, my dear Ned,” replies the determined General, “I have the power. Which is more to the point.” The General declares civil rule suspended, and puts the city under martial law. It is as though he lays his strong, bony hand on the shoulder of every man, and, the first shock over, every man feels safer for it. The press gangs are formed, and scores of seafaring “volunteers” are carried aboard the _Carolina_ and _Louisiana_ in irons. Once aboard and irons off, the “volunteers” become miracles of zeal and patriotic fire, furbishing up the dormant broadside guns, filling the shot racks, and making ready the magazines, hearts light as larks, as though to fight invading English is the one pleasant purpose of their lives; for such is the seafaring nature. The General's “press” does not confine itself to sailors. Negroes, mules, carts, shovels, and picks are brought under his rigid thumb. Every gun, every sword, every pistol is collected and stored for use when needed. Meanwhile, the indefatigable Coffee arrives, marching seventy miles the last day and fifty the day before to join his beloved chief. Also Captain Hinds of the dragoons is no less headlong, and brings his command two hundred and thirty miles in four days, such is his heat to fight beneath the blue, commanding eye of the General.