I soon altered my opinion, for all at once the French leader came up to
the door and struck it with the hilt of his sword, as he exclaimed in
French:
"Now, Captain Duncan, surrender!"
No reply was given.
"Open this door and pass out the whole of the silver bars you have
there," was the next command, and this time my father answered:
"Come and take them if you can--_si vous osez_," he added in French.
There was no more delay. A couple of men were ordered to the front with
iron bars, and they began to batter the door heavily, but without any
further effect than to chip off splinters and make dints.
The men were called off, the rest standing ready to fire at anyone who
should show a face at the windows, but we gave them no opportunity, for
my father whispered:
"They are sixty. We are only just over a dozen. Wait, men, wait."
"What are they doing, Big?" I whispered to my companion, for he was in
a better post for observations than myself.
"I can't quite see," he whispered back. "They've got a bag of
something, and they're bringing it to the door."