He was blindfolded, that he might not see the weak parts of the fort, and was brought to Major Byre and the other officers.  His message was to advise them to surrender the fort and obtain for themselves favourable terms, threatening a massacre if this was refused.

“I shall defend myself to the last!” said Major Byre calmly.  “Englishmen do not give up their forts at the bidding of the foe.  We can at least die like men, if we cannot defend ourselves, and that has yet to be proved.”

The news of this demand and the reply flew like wildfire through the ranks, and inspired the men with courage and ardour.  The Rangers were brought within the fort, and all was made ready for the assault.

A storm of shot hailed upon the fort.  Through the gathering darkness of the night they could only distinguish the foe by the red glare from their guns.  The English fort was dark and silent.  It reserved its fire till the enemy came closer.  The crisis was coming nearer and nearer.  There was a tense feeling in the air, as though an electric cloud hovered over all.

Charles went about with a strange look upon his face.

“He is there—­he is coming.  We shall meet!” he kept repeating; and all through that night there was no sleep for him—­he wandered about like a restless spirit.  No service was demanded of him.  He was counted as one whose mind wanders.  Yet in the hour of battle none could fight with more obstinate bravery than Charles Angell.

“Fire! fire! fire!”

It was Charles’s voice that raised the cry in the dead of the night.  No attack had been made upon the fort; but under cover of darkness the enemy had crept nearer and nearer to the outlying buildings, and tongues of flame were shooting up.

Instantly the guns were turned in that direction, and a fusillade awoke the silence of the sleeping lake, whilst cries of agony told how the bullets and shots had gone home.

“Come, Rangers,” shouted Rogers, “follow me out and fall upon them!  Drive them back!  Save the fort from fire!”

Rogers never called upon his men in vain.  No service was too full of peril for them.  Ignorant as they were of the number or power of their assailants, they dashed in a compact body out of the side gate towards the place where the glare of the fire illumined the darkness of the night.

Dark forms were hurrying hither and thither; but the moment the Rangers appeared with their battle cry, there was an instant rout and flight.

“After them!” shouted Rogers; and the men dashed over the rough ground, pursuers and pursued, shouting, yelling, firing—­and they saw that some bolder spirits amongst the Frenchmen had even set fire to the sloop on the stocks which Rogers had been teaching the soldiers how to construct.

But in the forefront of the pursuit might be seen one wild, strange figure with flying hair and fiery eyes.  He turned neither to the right hand nor to the left, but ran on and on in a straight line, keeping one flying figure ever in view.