"Gineral," said the Irishman, taking off the silk hat which Desmit
had worn and waving it in the air; "Gineral, I have the honor
to inthroduce to ye anl auld gintleman--one av the vera furst
families--that's come out to mate ye, an' begs that ye'll taste jest
a dhrap av the finest auld pache that ivver ran over yer tongue,
jist ter cilebrate this vera joyful occasion,"

He waved his hat toward Desmit, and handed up his canteen at once.
The act was full of the audacity of his race, but the news had
overthrown all sense of discipline. The officer even lifted the
canteen to his lips, and no doubt finding Pat's assertion as to its
quality to be true allowed a reasonable quantity of its aromatic
contents to glide down his throat, and then handed it to one of
his companions.

"General! General!" shrieked Desmit in desperation, as he rushed
forward.

"What do you want, sir?" said the officer sternly.

There was a rush, a crackle, and a still louder shout.

Both turned and saw a tongue of red flame with a black, sooty tip
leap suddenly skyward. The great mass of naval stores was fired,
and no power on earth could save a barrel of them now. Desmit
staggered to the nearest tree, and faint and trembling watched the
flame. How it raged! How the barrels burst and the liquid flame
poured over the ground and into the river! Still it burned! The whole
earth seemed aflame! How the black billows of heavy smoke poured
upward, hiding the day! The wind shifted and swept the smoke-wave