A panic spread through the garrison; some prepared to fly at once, others clamoured for surrender.  Carteret called them together; and when the officers and men were all collected on parade, appealed to all classes, as Lieutenant-Governor of the King whom they had all seen trusting himself in their protection, and as commander of the royal forces in the loyal island “I am determined,” said the undaunted seaman, “to keep this castle for His Majesty so long as I have a man left to fire a gun, and a loblolly boy to fetch the ammunition.  The royal standard still flies over our heads, the sea still lies between us and France, to bring us Prince Rupert and his fleet.  Let those who are afraid depart—­I keep no man against his will.  Those who remain will be all the more trustworthy.  Let the gate stand open for the next half-hour.”

His orders were obeyed; but as he probably foresaw, no one dared to leave openly.  By night, however, many of the garrison, who were of the Jersey Militia, silently departed.  The bulk of the garrison, however, had heard of the storm of Drogheda, and chose what they deemed the lesser evil of trusting to the strength of their walls and the resources of their commander.  To go to a town where they were unpopular strangers, and where the soldiers of the Commonwealth were in undisputed possession, would be to go to certain and immediate slaughter—­to remain with Carteret was to gain the present hour and the chances of the future.  Lady Carteret and the women and children were sent by the next opportunity to France; and then the work of defence was renewed; the guns were fired, as powder served and supplies were received from France; injured walls were repaired, and aid was anxiously awaited.  Castle Cornet, in Guernsey, had held out since the Outbreak of hostilities more than ten years before—­why should not Elizabeth, do as much, until the king enjoyed his own again?  Meanwhile, December had begun, and the days grew short and cold.  Haine’s great mortars proved rude and cumbrous; before they could be loaded and fired, and cooled again, one after the other, many times, the darkness would come on.  The remaining stores were buried out of range.  In the black and stormy nights, which lasted nearly sixteen hours, the men of the garrison threw up mounds of shingle and sand behind the breaches made during the day.

On the morning of the 5th December the sun rose clear and bright, and a south-west wind softly threw out the silken folds of the Royal Standard on the main tower of the Castle.  Haine was standing by a cromlech that in those days occupied the summit of the Town-hill; Prynne, Lempriere, and some officers, of whom Le Gallais was one, stood beside him.  In their immediate front the gunners, under an officer, were preparing to renew their apparently endless operations.

“This must be brought to an end, Mr. Bailiff,” said Haine.  “For seven weeks and more I have exhausted the powers of modern war upon that eyry of malignants; and there is still the Guernsey Castle to be dealt with.  Mr. Prynne knoweth what is the mind of the Lord General; but a time comes when sharp measures become necessary.  I must take up scaling-ladders and deliver an assault.”