"That is an attack." Another volley, this time nearer and more concentrated, convinced Hamilton that he was, indeed, at the opening of a fight.

Even while he was giving some hurried orders to his officers, a man was wounded at one of the port-holes.

Then came a series of yells, answered by a ripple of sympathetic French shouting that ran throughout the town.

The patrol guards came straggling in, breathless with excitement.

They swore to having seen a thousand men marching across the water-covered meadows.
Hamilton was brave.