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"You have said enough, Major Heyward," exclaimed the angry old man;
"enough to make a volume of commentary on French civility. Here has
this gentleman invited me to a conference, and when I send him a capable
substitute, for ye're all that, Duncan, though your years are but few,
he answers me with a riddle."
"He may have thought less favorably of the substitute, my dear sir; and
you will remember that the invitation, which he now repeats, was to the
commandant of the works, and not to his second."
"Well, sir, is not a substitute clothed with all the power and dignity
of him who grants the commission? He wishes to confer with Munro! Faith,
sir, I have much inclination to indulge the man, if it should only be to
let him behold the firm countenance we maintain in spite of his numbers
and his summons. There might be not bad policy in such a stroke, young
man."
Duncan, who believed it of the last importance that they should speedily
come to the contents of the letter borne by the scout, gladly encouraged
this idea.
"Without doubt, he could gather no confidence by witnessing our
indifference," he said.
"You never said truer word. I could wish, sir, that he would visit the
works in open day, and in the form of a storming party; that is the
least failing method of proving the countenance of an enemy, and would
be far preferable to the battering system he has chosen. The beauty and
manliness of warfare has been much deformed, Major Heyward, by the arts
of your Monsieur Vauban. Our ancestors were far above such scientific
cowardice!"
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