rves back on itself; and the fourth side was sheer
wall--invulnerable.

{180} With a rattling of anchor chains and a creaking of masts the
great sails of the English fleet were lowered, and a little boat put
out at ten o'clock under flag of truce to meet a boat half-way from
Lower Town. Phips' messenger was conducted blindfold up the barricaded
streets leading to Castle St. Louis; and the gunners had been
instructed to clang their muskets on the stones to give the impression
of great numbers. Suddenly the bandage was taken from the man's eyes
and he found himself in a great hall, standing before the august
presence of Frontenac, surrounded by a circle of magnificently dressed
officers. The New Englander delivered his message,--Phips' letter
demanding surrender: "_Your prisoners, your persons, your estates . . .
and should you refuse, I am resolved by the help of God, in whom I
trust, to revenge by force of arms all our wrongs_." . . . As the
reading of the letter was finished the man looked up to see an insolent
smile pass round the faces of Frontenac's officers, one of whom
superciliously advised hanging the bearer of such insolence without
waste of time. The New Englander pulled out his watch and signaled
that he must have Frontenac's answer within an hour. The haughty old
Governor pretended not to see the motion, and then, with a smile like
ice, made answer in {181} words that have become renowned: "I shall not
keep you waiting so long! Tell your General I do not recognize King
William! I know no king of England but King James! Does your General
suppose that these brave gentlemen"--pointing to his officers--"would
consent to trust a man who broke his word at Port Royal?"

[Illustration: CASTLE ST. LOUIS]

As the shout of applause died away, the trembling New Englander asked
Frontenac if he would put his answer in writing.

"No," thundered the old Governor, never happier than when fighting, "I
will answer your General with my cannon! I shall teach him that a man
of my rank"--with covert sneer at Phips' origin, "is not to be summoned
in such rude fashion! Let him do his best! I shall do mine!"

It was now the turn of the English to be amazed. This was not the
answer they had expected from a fort weakly garrisoned by a hundred
men. If they had struck and struck quickly, they might yet have won
the day; but all Monday passed in futile arguments and councils of war,
and on Tuesday, the 17th, towards nig