"Lower your rifle, sir. In the presence of a superior force, taken by surprise and without arms, it is my duty to save bloodshed. With the promise of fair usage, and the rights of prisoners of war, I surrender this little foraging party under my command."
"I'll make the terms agreeable," replied the sergeant. "Never doubt me, sir. Right hand file, advance, and receive the arms of the prisoners!"
"I'm here, captain," said Andrew, in a conceited tone, as if it were a near occasion of merriment; and the lad quickly entered the house and secured the weapons, retreating with them some paces from the door.
"Now, sir," said Horseshoe to the ensign, "your sword, and whatever else you mought have about you of the ammunitions of war!"
The officer delivered up his sword and a pair of pocket pistols. As Horseshoe received these tokens of victory, he asked, with a lambent smile and what he intended to be an elegant and condescending composure, "Your name, sir, if I mought take the freedom?"
"Ensign St. Jermyn, of his Majesty s seventy-first regiment of light infantry."
"Ensign, your servant," added Horseshoe, still preserving this unusual exhibition of politeness. "You have defended your post like an old sodger, although you ha'n't much beard on your chin; but, seeing you have given up, you shall be treated like a man who has done his duty. You will walk out now and form yourselves in line at the door. I'll engage my men shall do you no harm; they are of a marciful breed."
When the little squad of prisoners submitted to this command and came to the door, they were stricken with equal astonishment and mortification to find, in place of the detachment of cavalry which they expected to see, nothing but a man, a boy,
