pulling a stroke now and then to give the boat steerage way. As we shot
through the gap into the smooth water beyond, we once more gave way, the
boat's head being kept in the direction of lights that we saw twinkling I
in the distance, apparently in some village beyond the inner embankment,
when all at once we dashed in amongst thousands of wild--geese, which rose
with a clang, and a concert of quacking, screaming, and hissing, that was
startling enough. We skimmed steadily on in the same direction "Oars,
men!" We were by this time close to a small cluster of houses, perched on
the forced ground or embankment, and the messenger hailed in German.

"Qui vive!" sung out a gruff voice; and we heard the clank of a musket, as
if some one had cast it from his shoulder, and caught it in his hands, as
he brought it down to the charge. Our passenger seemed a little taken
aback; but he hailed again, still in German. "Parole," replied the man.
A pause. "The watchword, or I fire." We had none to give.

"Pull round, men," said the lieutenant, with great quickness; "pull the
starboard oars; we are in the wrong box; back water the larboard. That's
it! give way, men."

A flash--crack went the sentry's piece, and ping sung the ball over our
heads. Another pause. Then a volley from a whole platoon. Again all was
dark and silent. Presently a field--piece was fired, and several rockets
were let off in our direction, by whose light we could see a whole company
of French soldiers standing to their arms, with several cannon, but we
were speedily out of the reach of their musketry. Several round shots
were now fired, that hissed, recochetting along the water close by us.
Not a word was spoken in the boat all this time; we continued to pull for
the opening in the dike, although, the current being strong against us, we
made but little way; while the chance of being cut off by the Johnny