IN WHICH WE PREPARE TO FIGHT THE SPANIARD

A MAN came panting down the street. “Captain Ralph Percy!” he cried. “My master said it was your horse coming across the neck. The Governor commands your attendance at once, sir.”

“Where is the Governor? Where are all the people?” I demanded.

“At the fort. They are all at the fort or on the bank below. Oh, sirs, a woeful day for us all!”

“A woeful day!” I exclaimed. “What’s the matter?”

The man, whom I recognized as one of the commander’s servants, a fellow with the soul of a French valet de chambre, was wild with terror.

“They are at the guns!”