It was directed: _To the First Lord of the Admiralty, London,_ and kept in readiness for transmission by the first ship that should hail in sight.

But time elapsed, and here was the 18th of February without an opportunity having been afforded for any communication with the British Government.
At breakfast that morning, the colonel observed to the major that he was under the most decided impression that the 18th of February was a royal anniversary; and he went on to say that, although he had received no definite instructions on the subject, he did not think that the peculiar circumstances under which they found themselves should prevent them from giving the day its due military honors.
The major quite concurred; and it was mutually agreed that the occasion must be honored by a bumper of port, and by a royal salute.

Corporal Pim must be sent for.

The corporal soon made his appearance, smacking his lips, having, by a ready intuition, found a pretext for a double morning ration of spirits.
"The 18th of February, you know, Pim," said the colonel; "we must have a salute of twenty-one guns." "Very good," replied Pim, a man of few words.
"And take care that your fellows don't get their arms and legs blown off," added the officer.
"Very good, sir," said the corporal; and he made his salute and withdrew.
Of all the bombs, howitzers, and various species of artillery with which the fortress had been crowded, one solitary piece remained.

This was a cumbrous muzzle-loader of 9-inch caliber, and, in default of the smaller ordnance generally employed for the purpose, had to be brought into requisition for the royal salute.
A sufficient number of charges having been provided, the corporal brought his men to the reduct, whence the gun's mouth projected over a sloping embrasure.