Scarcely were the words spoken, when three officers in scarlet, preceded
by a drummer with a white flag, stood before the American party.

"To whom may I address myself?" said one of the British--who, I may
inform my reader, en passant, was no other than O'Flaherty--"To whom may
I address myself as the officer in command?"

"I am Major Brown," said a short, plethoric little man, in a blue uniform
and round hat--"And who are you?"

"Major O'Flaherty, of his majesty's fifth foot," said Tom, with a very
sonorous emphasis on each word--"the bearer of a flag of truce and an
amicable proposition from Major-General Allen, commanding the garrison of
Fort Peak."

The Americans, who were evidently taken by surprise at their intentions
of attack being known, were silent, while he continued--

"Gentlemen, it may appear somewhat strange that a garrison, possessing
the natural strength of a powerful position--supplied with abundant
ammunition and every muniment of war--should despatch a flag of truce on
the eve of an attack, in preference to waiting for the moment, when a
sharp and well-prepared reception might best attest its vigilance and
discipline. But the reasons for this step are soon explained. In the
first place, you intend a surprise. We have been long aware of your
projected attack. Our spies have tracked you from your crossing the
river above the whirlpool to your present position. Every man of your
party is numbered by us; and, what is still more, numbered by our allies
--yes, gentlemen, I must repeat it, "allies"--though, as a Briton, I
blush at the word. Shame and disgrace for ever be that man's portion,