soldiers the outer works might still be manned and the city saved.
The officers English, Dutch, and French, listened respectfully to his
remarks, but, without any suggestions on their own part, called on him
as their Alexander to untie the Gordian knot. Alexander solved it, not
with the sword, but with a trick which he hoped might prove sharper than
a sword. He announced his intention of proposing at once to treat, and
to protract the negotiations as long as possible, until the wished-for
sails should be discerned in the offing, when he would at once break
faith with them, resume hostilities, and so make fools of the besiegers.

This was a device worthy of a modern Alexander whose surname was Farnese.
Even in that loose age such cynical trifling with the sacredness of
trumpets of truce and offers of capitulation were deemed far from
creditable among soldiers and statesmen, yet the council of war highly
applauded the scheme, and importuned the general to carry it at once into
effect.

When it came, however, to selecting the hostages necessary for the
proposed negotiations, they became less ardent and were all disposed to
recede. At last, after much discussion, the matter was settled, and
before nightfall a drummer was set upon the external parapet of the
Porcupine, who forthwith began to beat vigorously for a parley. The
rattle was a welcome sound in the ears of the weary besiegers, just drawn
up in column for a desperate assault, and the tidings were at once
communicated to the archduke in Fort St. Albert. The prince manifested
at first some unwillingness to forego the glory of the attack, from
which he confidently expected a crowning victory, but yielding to the
representations of his chief generals that it was better to have his town
without further bloodshed, he consented to treat. Hostages were
expeditiously appointed on both sides, and Captains Ogle and Fairfax were