. But here are my terms:--I will have 30,000 pounds sterling
at least, and six of the chiefs men of the town for otage. Be speedy,
or I shot your town away directly, and I set fire to it. I am,
gentlemen, your servant,--G. FALL.

"`I sent some of my crew to you, but if some harm happens to them,
you'll be sure we'll hang up the mainyard all the prisoners we have
aboard.

"`To Monsieurs the chiefs men of Arbrought in Scotland.'

"I'm not quite certain," continued the lieutenant, "what were the exact
words of the Provost's reply to this letter, but they conveyed a
distinct and contemptuous refusal to accede to any terms, and, I
believe, invited Fall to come ashore, where, if he did not get precisely
what he had asked, he would be certain to receive a great deal more than
he wanted.

"The enraged and disappointed Frenchman at once began a heavy fire upon
the town, and continued it for a long time, but fortunately it did
little or no harm, as the town lay in a somewhat low position, and
Fall's guns being too much elevated, the shot passed over it.

"Next day another letter was sent to the Provost by some fishermen, who
were captured while fishing off the Bell Rock. This letter was as
tremendous as the two former. I can give it to you, word for word, from
memory.

"`At Sea, _May_ 24th.'

"`Gentlemen,--See whether you will come to some terms with me, or I come
in presently with my cutter into the arbour, and I will cast down the
town all over. Make haste, because I have no time to spare. I give you
a quarter of an hour to your decision, and after I'll make my duty. I
think it would be better for you, gentlemen, to come some of you aboard
presently, to settle the affairs of your town. You'll sure no to be
hurt. I give you my parole of honour. I am your, G. FALL.'

"When the Provost received this he looked round and said, `Now,
gentlemen all, we'll hae to fight. Send me Ogilvy.'

"`Here I am, Provost,' cried a stout, active young fellow; something
like what the captain must have been when he was young, I should think!"

"Ahem!" coughed the captain.

"Well," continued Lindsay, "the Provost said, `Now, Ogilvy, you're a
smart cheel, an' ken aboot war and strategy and the like: I charge ye to
organise the men o' the toon without delay, and tak' what steps ye think
adveesable. Meanwhile, I'll away and ripe oot a' the airms and guns I
can find. Haste ye, lad, an' mak' as muckle noise aboot it as ye can.'