rward barbette swung round
and the muzzles sank until the long chases pointed at the _Australien's_
waterline. The Field-Marshal knew full well that it only needed the
touch of a finger on a button to smash the _Australien_ into fragments,
and he knew too that the first shot from the flagship would be the
signal for the whole Fleet to open fire, and that would mean massacre
unspeakable. He was as brave a man as ever wore a uniform, but he knew
that on the next words he should speak the lives of fifty thousand men
depended. He took one more look round the ring of steel which enclosed
him on every side, and then with livid lips and grinding teeth gave the
order for the flag to be hauled down. The next moment he unbuckled his
sword and hurled it into the sea; then with a deep groan he dropped
fainting to the deck.

It would be useless to attempt to describe the fury and mortification
with which the officers and men of the French Force saw the flags one by
one flutter down from end to end of the long line of transports, but it
was plain even to the rawest conscript that there was no choice save
between surrender and massacre. They cursed and stamped about the decks
or sat down and cried, according to temperament, and that, under the
circumstances, was about all they could do.

Meanwhile, a steam pinnace came puffing out from the harbour, and in a
few minutes General French was standing on the promenade deck of the
_Australien_. The Field Marshal had already been carried below. A
grey-haired officer in the uniform of a general came forward with his
sword in his hand and said in excellent English, but with a shake in his
voice:

"You are General French, I presume? Our Commander, Field-Marshal Purdin
de Trevillion had such an access of anger when he found how we had been
duped that he flung his sword into the sea. He then fainted, and is
still unconscious. You will, therefore, perhaps accept my sword instead
of his."

General French touched the hilt with his hand, and said:

"Keep it. General Devignes, and I hope your officers will do the same. I
will accept your parole for all of them. You are the Field-Marshal's
Chief-of-Staff, I believe, and therefore, of course, your word is his. I
am very sorry to hear of his illness."

"You have my word," replied General Devignes, "for myself and those of
my officers who may be willing to give their parole, but for those who
prefer to remain prisoners I cannot, of course, answer."