"I ain't no Britisher! dar ain't no Angler Saxun blood in dese
veins. I is a Yankee nigger, massa, bet I am."
Another man who had come up at a run cried in language in which the
Hibernian was plainly distinguishable:
"Hould hard, ye haythin! The redcoats are afther us!"
"Who be ye?" demanded Zeb.
"The advance guard of two hundred Americans comin' to help ye whip the
Britisher. Jist as we landed, afther crossing the mouth of the creek,
the dirthy spalpeens fired on us; but we drove thim back, and here come
our boys at double quick."
Terrence was correct, for Fernando and his riflemen having cut their way
through the British, hurried into the fort. Captain Lane was amazed to
find their friends led by the young Ohioan, whom he had entertained at
his house five years before.
"Did you lose any of your men in the skirmish?" asked Captain Lane.
"Two were wounded, none killed or missing. Has the _Xenophon_ commenced
the bombardment yet?"
"No; but she will as soon as the wind shifts to bring her in."
"How many men have you capable of bearing arms, Captain Lane?" asked
Fernando.
"Almost two hundred."
"I have two hundred more, we will die together or beat off the ship."
"Did General Winder send you to defend the town?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then I will serve under you. Captain Stevens."
Fernando tried to get the old captain to assume command; but he said he
was too old; that he would gladly advise him and serve with him and
under him; but he did not want the responsibility of the command.
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