an answering shout from each of the other yards in succession, till they all blended in one continuous roar from more than three thousand throats.  If it subsided in part, or altogether, for a few moments, it quickly broke out again.  The turnkeys, looking through the gratings of the wickets, saw the prisoners leaping and jumping about in the greatest state of excitement (and when a Frenchman is excited, he is excited indeed); and in some of the yards they had evidently got tools and implements

which must have been brought in by outsiders.

Major Kelly was promptly on the spot, and at once saw that the situation was threatening.  It was not the uproar that alarmed him.  That, alone, could do no harm, except to the throats of the shouters, though it betrayed the fact that the whole of the prisoners were taking part in the rising.  What he feared most was the possession of tools by the prisoners, and the consequent danger that, if any sufficient opening were made in one or more of the outer palisades, a considerable number of prisoners might get out, and much bloodshed take place.  This his humane nature shrank from.

The force under his command consisted, at that particular time, of only a regiment of militia, and a battalion of the army reserve, about eleven hundred bayonets.  The whole of these were immediately under arms, and ordered to surround the enclosure in detachments, with instructions to combine at any point where there

seemed any signs of an opening being made by the prisoners.

Major Kelly then proceeded to consult with his senior officers and Captain Mortimer.  The question was not whether he had force enough to put down the mutiny by violent measures, but whether there were men enough to do it without considerable effusion of blood.

Captain Mortimer at once shewed his quality when asked for his opinion.  “Put it down, major,” he said, “with a strong hand, and lose no time about it.  What I venture to recommend is, first of all send a shot from the block-house into one of the prison yards by way of warning; then march two or three hundred men right into the yard; draw them up, and let them shoot every rascal that does not take shelter in the barrack-room.  Give them time.  Then let an officer go to the door with a bugler, and tell the canaille, if they don’t at once leave off their infernal noise and keep quietly inside, they will be shot down like rats: then fasten up the door. 

Depend on it, this will soon settle the other yards.  One example will be enough.  A rough beginning will make a speedy ending.”

“But these men,” said Major Kelly sternly, and with evident disgust, “are not rascals, they are not to be treated as canaille.  The only crime they are guilty of is fighting for their country.  That they want to escape, however foolish, is only natural.  Of course they must be put down, even if it should cost some lives: but I should prefer trying milder measures first.  What do you say, gentlemen?”

The other officers all fell in with their commander’s idea: for, as a rule, the majority of officers partake of the spirit of their chief without any subserviency; and thus, as we so often find, a Colonel makes or mars his regiment.

“Then we must have help from Peterborough,” said the Major.  “Take a message from me, Captain Martin, to the officer in command there.  Say that I want all the men he can spare, and specially every troop of

yeomanry he can muster, for we may have to scour the country.  My horse shall be at the main gate in ten minutes—you know he is a good one; and you, Captain, like a fair pace.”

The gallant Captain smiled as he saluted, and in less than ten minutes he was in the saddle and flying like a meteor along the road, for he was a very Jehu.

The stone steps by which the officers mounted are still to be seen where the main entrance was.

And what were the French and other officers doing all this time?

They had all along known of the intended outbreak, and urgent requests had in some way been made to them that they would take part in it.  But with some few exceptions, they had positively refused.  Not, however, without much acrimonious debate.  Those who were in favour of joining in the mutiny were some captains of privateers, whose sense of honour was not rendered more acute by their manner

of life, and two or three army officers of indifferent character, who had either abused their parole, or never obtained it.