when Admiral Watson arrived
from Calcutta with the Kent, the Tyger, and the Salisbury.

Next morning an officer was despatched in a boat to summon Renault once
more to surrender. Rowing between the sunken vessels, whose masts showed
above water, he took soundings and found that with careful handling the
men-o'-war might safely pass. Once more Renault refused to surrender. His
offer to ransom the fort was declined by the admiral, who the same night
sent the master of the Kent to buoy the channel. Two nights later, in
pitch darkness, several English boats were rowed with muffled oars to the
sunken vessels. Their crews fixed lanterns to the masts of these in such
a way that the light, while guiding the warships, would be invisible from
the fort.

Early next morning Clive captured the battery commanding the river
passage, and the three British ships ran up with the tide. The Kent and
Tyger opened fire on the southeast and northeast bastions, and these two
vessels bore the brunt of a tremendous cannonade from the fort. The
French artillery was well served, doing fearful damage on board the
British vessels. On the Kent, save the admiral himself and one
lieutenant, every officer was killed or wounded. One shot struck down
Captain Speke and shattered the leg of his son, a brave boy of sixteen,
who refused to allow his wound to be examined until his father had been
attended to, and then bore the pain of the rough amputation of those days
without a murmur.

Meanwhile Clive's men had climbed to the roofs of houses near the fort,
which commanded the French batteries; and his musketeers poured in a
galling fire and shot down the gunners at their work. As the walls of the
barracks and fort were shattered by the guns from the ships, the Sepoys
crept closer and closer, awaiting the word to storm.

The morning drew on. Admiral Watson began to fear that when the tide fell
his big guns would be at too low a level to do further execution. There
was always considerable rivalry between himself and Clive, fed by the
stupid jealousy of some of the Calcutta Council. While Clive, foreseeing
even more serious work later, was anxious to spare his men, Watson was
equally eager to reap all possible credit for a victory over the French.

As it happened, neither had to go to the last extremity, for about
half-past nine a white flag was seen flying from the fort. Lieutenant
Brereton of the Kent and Captain Eyre Coote from the land force wer