O'Hara was too busy to stop long, but I was not sorry, as there was sufficient occurring to rivet attention.

It was, maybe, four hundred yards down a gentle slope to the water's edge, where the line was forming.

This passageway was lined with onlookers, held back by numerous guards, while to my left extended a square lawn, perhaps one hundred and fifty yards each way, surrounded by a double rank of grenadiers, the bayonets gleaming on their guns.

This open space was equipped with everything needed for the coming tourney, and on three sides were tiers of raised seats.

I had barely observed all this when the guns of the _Roebuck_, echoed by those of the _Vigilant_, began to boom a salute, and the head of the column of marchers began slowly mounting the slope.