the rocket from Sir Hussey Vivian's quarters, which was to announce
the recommencement of hostilities. It came just as the moon rose in her
silver splendor, and ere the rocket-stick fell quivering to the earth at
the feet of General Picton and Sir Lowry Cole, who were at their posts
at the head of the storming-parties, nine hundred and ninety nine guns
in position opened their fire from our batteries, which were answered by
a tremendous canonnade from the fort.

"Who's going to dance?" said the Doctor: "the ball's begun. Ha! there
goes poor Jack Delamere's head off! The ball chose a soft one, anyhow.
Come here, Tim, till I mend your leg. Your wife has need only knit half
as many stockings next year, Doolan my boy. Faix! there goes a big one
had wellnigh stopped my talking: bedad! it has snuffed the feather off
my cocked hat!"

In this way, with eighty-four-pounders roaring over us like hail, the
undaunted little Doctor pursued his jokes and his duty. That he had
a feeling heart, all who served with him knew, and none more so than
Philip Fogarty, the humble writer of this tale of war.

Our embrasure was luckily bomb-proof, and the detachment of the
Onety-oneth under my orders suffered comparatively little. "Be cool,
boys," I said; "it will be hot enough work for you ere long." The
honest fellows answered with an Irish cheer. I saw that it affected our
prisoner.

"Countryman," said I, "I know you; but an Irishman was never a traitor."

"Taisez-vous!" said he, putting his finger to his lip. "C'est la
fortune de la guerre: if ever you come to Paris, ask for the Marquis d'