illumination

the bodies from rotting during the long voyage by immersing them in casks of rum. It was perhaps undignified, but...it worked.
Colonel Brooke came back into the tent a few minutes later.
"The admiral's gone, sir. On his way to the American president's mansion."
Ross nodded. Then, finally, he relinquished his hold on consciousness. Darkness was peace, and a blessing.
"Got himself another white horse, I see," Sam Houston said wryly. He lowered the telescope through which he'd been peering from an upper window on the south side of the House. "There's a man who is set in his ways."
"It is the admiral, then?" asked Driscol. He'd been almost certain, even without the aid of a telescope, but not positive.
The conflagration at the Navy Yard was still growing, and had begun spreading to nearby buildings. They could hear the sound of collapsing structures, as well as periodic explosions as the roaring flames encountered munitions. As impressive as the fire was, however, the Naval Yard was too far away for those flames to pose a direct danger to the Capitol—which also meant that the illumination was still far poorer than daylight.
Sam shrugged. "I could hardly distinguish his features at this distance, even with a glass and even if I knew what he looked like. But unless there's another British naval officer with that much gold braid and a devotion to white horses, I'd say that has to be Cockburn."
Driscol leaned out of the window and looked down. Hungrily, he studied the three-pounder that Ball and his sailors had positioned to guard the southern flank of the Capitol.
"Leave it be, Patrick!" Houston said, laughing and clapping the smaller man on the back. "Clearly he's learned his lesson. He's staying well out of range. Even with a twelve-pounder, it'd be sheer luck to hit the bastard."
Driscol didn't leave off his calculations. "Now, yes. But maybe when he returns he'll get careless." He straightened and pushed himself away from the window. "No harm in being prepared, after all. With your permission, sir, I'll see to it."
Still chuckling, Houston agreed and waved him off. Driscol headed out the door immediately, McParland and the Rogers brothers in tow.
As James passed through the door, he looked back at Sam and grinned.
"Asgá siti," James said cheerfully. "Just the way it is."
Houston brought the telescope back to his eye and returned to his study