_, in preference
to the certainty of meeting British troops _ready formed for his
reception_. But do not, because we were successful at Detroit in
stampeding the United States troops, cherish the impression that General
Hull is a sample of American soldiery. If we _are_ taken by surprise the
attack will soon be known, for our range of beacons extends from the
Sugar Loaf to Queenston, from Lundy's Lane to Pelham Heights. Signal
guns, also, will announce any suspicious movement. One word in
conclusion. As soldiers you know your duty, and I think you now all
understand the position we are in--as far as I know it.

"General Sheaffe," he continued, turning to that officer, "I am much
concerned as to the fate of this town, Niagara, if its namesake fort on
the other side of the river should be tempted to forget the rules of war
and bombard the private buildings here with hot-shot. However, we will
do our best to give the invaders, when they do come, a warm reception.
There are two things, Major," looking towards Evans, his brigade-major
and intimate friend, "that our men must not omit to observe, namely, to
'trust God and keep their powder dry,' a most necessary precaution if
these storms continue."

* * * * *

It is worthy of note that while Brock was in conference with his staff,
expecting invasion any day, General Van Rensselaer, at Lewiston, was
writing the subjoined brief historical despatch to his
brigadier-general, Smythe:

"Sir,--To-night, October 12th, I shall attack the enemy's batteries
on the Heights of Queenston."

* * * * *

The weather was tempestuous. Rain clouds shrouded the Heights of
Queenston in a black pall. The wind romped and rioted in the foliage.
Brock's estimate of the character of the enemy was a masterly one. Van
Rensselaer was about to verify our hero's prediction.

[Illustration: BROCK'S MIDNIGHT GALLOP]

CHAPTER XXV.

THE MIDNIGHT GALLOP.

Well into the half-light of morning, long after the last of his staff,
Evans, Glegg and Macdonell, had departed, Brock sat alone at his
headquarters at Fort George, writing rapidly.

On the oak mantel, an antique clock chimed the passing of the historic
hours, with deep, musical strokes.

Was it presentiment--a clearer understanding that comes to men of active
brain and acute perception, during solitary vigil in the silence of
night, when, with heart and soul strip