towards him an officer, who said quietly, "The tide has turned,
sir." For reply the general made a swift motion towards the
maintop shrouds, and almost instantly lanterns showed in them. In
response the crowded boats began to cast away, and, immediately
descending, the General passed into his own boat, drew to the
front, and drifted in the current ahead of his gallant men, the
ships following after.

It was two by the clock when the boats began to move, and slowly
we ranged down the stream, silently steered, carried by the
current. No paddle, no creaking oarlock, broke the stillness. I was
in the next boat to the General's, for, with Clark and twenty-two
other volunteers to the forlorn hope, I was to show the way up the
heights, and we were near to his person for over two hours that
night. No moon was shining, but I could see the General plainly;
and once, when our boats almost touched, he saw me, and said
graciously, "If they get up, Mr. Moray, you are free to serve
yourself."

My heart was full of love of country then, and I answered, "I
hope, sir, to serve you till your flag is hoisted in the citadel."

He turned to a young midshipman beside him, and said, "How old
are you, sir?"

"Seventeen, sir," was the reply.

"It is the most lasting passion," he said, musing.

It seemed to me then, and I still think it, that the passion he