'll not get it, young man," roared Helm, his profanity well
mixed in with the words, "not while there's a man of us left!"

"Ye'd better use sof' soap on 'im, Cap'n," said Oncle Jazon in English,
"cussin' won't do no good." While he spoke he rubbed the doughty
Captain's arm and then patted it gently.

Helm, who was not half as excited as he pretended to be, knew that
Oncle Jazon's remark was the very essence of wisdom; but he was not yet
ready for the diplomatic language which the old trooper called "soft
soap."

"Are you the British commander?" he demanded.

"No," said the officer, "but I speak for him."

"Not to me by a damned sight, sir. Tell your commander that I will hear
what he has to say from his own mouth. No understrapper will be
recognized by me."

That ended the conference. The young officer, evidently indignant,
strode back to his line, and an hour later Hamilton himself demanded
the unconditional surrender of the fort and garrison.

"Fight for it," Helm stormed forth. "We are soldiers."

Hamilton held a confab with his officers, while his forces, under cover
of the town's cabins, were deploying so as to form a half circle about
the stockade. Some artillery appeared and was planted directly opposite
the gate, not three hundred yards distant. One blast of that battery
would, as Helm well knew, level a large part of the stockade.

"S'posin' I hev' a cannon, too, seein' it's the fashion," said Oncle
Jazon. "I can't shoot much, but I might skeer 'em. This little one'll
do me."

He set his rifle against the wall and with Beverley's help rolled one
of the swivels alongside the guns already in position.

In a few minutes Hamilton returned under the white flag and shouted:

"Upon what terms will you surrender?"

"All the honors of war," Helm firmly replied. "It's that or fight, and
I don't care a damn which!"

Hamilton half turned away, as if done with the parley, then facing the
fort again, said:

"Very well, sir, haul down your flag."

Helm was dumfounded at this prompt acceptance of his terms. Indeed the
incident is unique in history.

As Hamilton spoke he very naturally glanced up to where la banniere
d'Alice Roussillon waved brilliantly. Someone stood beside it on the
dilapidated roof of the old blockhouse, and was already taking it from
its place. His aid, Captain Farnsworth, saw this, and the vision made
his heart draw in a strong, hot flood It was a girl in short skirts and
moccasins,