"Your name, monsieur?" said Munro, bowing low.
"The Sieur Fontbrune, Baron of Beauchatel," replied he, bowing to the diamond buckles at his knees, and then presenting his box of rappee.
"Indeed--the second in command to the Marquis of Montcalm!"
"The same, and Colonel of the Regiment of Guienne."
"Nay," responded the courteous French noble, "the honour is mine in having the privilege of conferring with an officer of such valour as M. le Colonel Munro."
"And your purpose?" asked the latter, drily.
In presence of the senior officers of his garrison, Munro opened and read this communication from the French marquis, in which the latter wrote, that he deemed himself obliged by the common dictates of humanity to request that M. le Colonel Munro would surrender the fort, and cease, by a futile resistance, to provoke the savage Iroquois, who accompanied the French army in such vast and unmanageable hordes.
"A detachment of your garrison, under Colonel Parker, has lately (he continued) experienced their cruelty. I have it yet in my power to restrain and oblige them to observe a capitulation, as comparatively few of them have been hitherto killed. Your persisting in the defence of your fort can only retard its fate a few days, and must of necessity expose an unfortunate garrison, who cannot possibly receive relief, when we consider the _precautions_ taken to prevent it. I demand a decisive answer; and for this purpose have sent the Sieur de Fontbrune, one of my staff. You may implicitly credit all that he tells you.
"I will never surrender while we have a shot left," exclaimed Munro, furiously. "What say you, gentlemen?"
"That we and our soldiers will stand by you, Colonel, to the last gasp!" replied Captain Dacres.
"This, then, is your decision, messieurs?" said M. Beauchatel, playing with the ringlets of his peruke.
"It is--it is," was the answer on all hands.
"A most unwise one, permit me to say," urged the baron.
"To yield when General Webb is within less than one day's march of us, would be a treason to the King and a disgrace to ourselves."
The French baron smiled with provoking coolness, and said,
"General Webb beholds our preparations and approaches with an apparent indifference that originates either in infamous cowardice or miserable infatuation. In short, M. le Colonel, he has abandoned you."