"Blaze away! Gun at a time!" shouted Captain Avery, as the Noank tacked across the harbor mouth. "We can afford a few blank cartridges for such news as this is."
"The whaleboat's goin' to beat us gettin' in," replied Sam Prentice. "The folks'll know it all before we git there."
"Don't care if they do," said the captain. "We'll only be in port ag'in a few hours, anyhow. Night's our time. We know, now, jest what the cruiser is, and there doesn't seem to be another 'round."
The Noank's sixes were, therefore, shouting to the forts and the town that good news of some kind was coming. The men at the batteries heard and wondered, and grew impatient. They thought they knew all there was to be known of the mere exchange of shots with the Boxer. Their friends had not been harmed; neither had the brig; the whaleboat had escaped; and that was all that they could understand. Now, however, they saw the Noank sending up every American flag she had on board.
What could it mean? Lyme Avery was not a man to have suddenly lost his balance of mind.
"Something's up," they said. "No matter what it is, we'll answer him."
So a roaring salute was fired for something or other that was as yet unknown to the gunners, and more flags went up on the forts; while the joyous cannonading called out of their houses nearly all the population of New London, every soul as full of eager curiosity as were the soldiers of the garrisons.
Out they came, and they were not at all an unprosperous looking lot of men and women and children. Probably the most important thing which the war statesmen of Great Britain overlooked in making their calculations for subduing the colonies was that the resources of America were in no danger of becoming exhausted. On the contrary, nearly all the states were growing richer instead of poorer. Strangely enough, the war itself was a powerful agent for the development of America. Continental paper money was as yet answering very well for local payments and exchanges, and its subsequent depreciation was of less importance than a great many people imagined. Nothing was really lost when a paper dollar dwindled to fifty cents and then went down to ten—or nothing. Nearly all the old farms were as good as ever, and new ones were opening daily. There were more acres under cultivation—a great many more—all over the country, out of the range of British army foraging parties. The farms which the foragers could not reach included all of the New England states, all of Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, nearly all of South Carolina and Georgia, and all of New York above the Hudson River highlands. A large part of even harassed New Jersey was doing very well.
Something more than merely the farming interests were to be taken into consideration, moreover. Prior to the rebellion, the policy of the mother country had choked to death all manufacturing undertakings in America, in order that the colonies might serve only as markets for English-made goods. Now, not only was the prohibition removed, but the rebels were absolutely compelled to manufacture for themselves. They were altogether willing to set about it. They had an abundance of raw materials, and could increase their productions of all sorts. They had great mechanical skill, marvellous inventive genius, and unlimited water-power. Everywhere began to spring up woollen and cotton factories, potteries, iron works, wagon shops, tanneries, and other new industries unknown before.
Cattle, horses, sheep, swine, mules, multiplied without any hinderance whatever from the war. For all food products there were more mouths to fill, and for all things salable there was more power to pay. It followed that there soon were many more tradesmen, merchants, and middlemen, doing vastly more business, whether for cash or barter.
There were more men, too, and more women. The sad losses of men in battles, camps, prisons, were only a small number compared with the thousands of stalwart youths who were growing up. These, too, were growing up as Americans, knowing no allegiance to England, full of eager patriotism, and ready, whenever their turns might come, to take their places in the army or in the navy.
There were desolated regions, but the area of these was limited. As a whole, the new republic was increasing tremendously in both wealth and population. Its resources for all war purposes were growing from day to day through all the dark years of the Revolution.
The New Londoners had no idea of waiting patiently under such circumstances as these, with so much salute firing tantalizing them. Boats of all sorts put out, and these were shortly met by the Long Island news-carriers. Their entry had not depended at all upon the wind, and not much upon even the tide, so well they were pulling.
Guert and his Noank friends, therefore, were robbed of the pleasure of being the first to tell the great tidings from the bank of the Delaware. It swiftly reached the shore, to be greeted with half-mad enthusiasm. Before the Noank lowered her last sail at her wharf, there were men on horseback and men in sleighs, and women, too, even more excitedly, all speeding out to villages and towns and farm-houses to set the hearts of patriots on fire with joy and hope.
It was quite likely that every courier would picture the success of General Washington at least as large as the reality. Lord Cornwallis himself, rallying his somewhat scattered detachments to strike back at his unexpected assailant, was aware of stinging losses, but not that he had been seriously defeated. He had suffered a sharp check, and he had afterward failed to surround and capture Mr. Washington and his brave ragamuffins. That appeared to be about all. It hardly occurred to the self-confident British generals that so small an affair as that of Trenton, or a drawn battle like that of Princeton, could have any great or permanent consequences. Little did they imagine how great a change was made in the minds, in the courage and hope of a host of previously dispirited Americans.
There had been many, for instance, who had been losing confidence in Washington's ability as a general. He had been too often defeated, and they could not rightly understand or estimate the causes for his reverses, or how well he had done in spite of terrible disadvantages. Now, as his star again blazed forth, these very faultfinders were ready to believe him one of the greatest generals of the age.
The political consequences were invaluable. Not only the Congress at Philadelphia, but the state legislatures, most of them, were more ready to push along with measures of a military nature. The entire aspect of affairs underwent a visible change, not only in America, but, very soon, in Europe.
Especially dense was the crowd that gathered at the wharf toward which the Noank was to be steered. All the other crowds probably wished that they had known just where to go. Most of them at once set out on a run in the corrected direction. The cheering done had already made a great many of the patriots somewhat hoarse, and they were all the readier to hear as well as talk.
"Oh! Guert!" exclaimed his mother, as she hugged him, the moment he came over upon the wharf. "I'm glad of the victories, but I'm gladder still to see you safe back again!"
"Up-na-tan hit the brig, mother," he said. "Captain Avery says we can run out right past her. Hurrah for General Washington!"
"Thee bad boy!" said Rachel Tarns, behind Mrs. Ten Eyck. "Thee and thy schooner should have been with him at Trenton. He was in need of thy fine French guns and thy sailors."
"That's so, I guess!" said Guert. "We'd ha' sailed right in, if we'd been there. I'd like to ha' seen the battle. Mother, Up-na-tan's going to teach me how to handle cannon. He says he's going to make a good gunner of me."
"I want you to be a captain," she said.
"Guert," said Rachel, "I wish thee might become as good an artilleryman as thy old friend Alexander Hamilton. It is my pride and joy, this day, that I paid for the first powder for his cannon. I also praise the Lord that Alexander knoweth so well what to do with them and with the powder."
"I'll learn what to do with mine," said Guert. "'Tisn't easy, though. 'Tisn't like handling a rifle or a shotgun. It's a good deal in the loading and in guessing distances."
"Up-na-tan," was Rachel's next half-humorous inquiry, "thee wicked old Indian! Has thee been shooting at thy good king with thy big gun?"
"Ole woman no talk!" grumbled the Manhattan. "Up-na-tan all mad! Want long thirty-two. Pivot-gun too small. Hit lobster brig. No sink her."
"Ole chief not take any 'calp," chuckled Coco, maliciously, "so he feel bad. Want 'calp somebody, soon's he can. Now old Coco had fight, s'pose he 'bout ready for he supper."
That feeling seemed to have spread very widely, as if good news were calculated to produce good appetites. It was a hungry time as well as a triumph, and in many houses there were home-made feasts, that evening. There was one, for instance, at the Avery house, and Guert was there, of course. He was glad of one more visit to his mother, but a peculiarly warlike thrill went over him before he reached the gate. It was when Lyme Avery said to his mate, as they separated:—
"Sam Prentice, tell your wife to send you out good and early. We're goin' to have another brush with that there British brig, to-morrow, if the wind's at all right for it."
"I don't know," replied Sam. "Our best hold is to slip past her, if we can, and git out into the open sea. It wouldn't do to run back into the Sound, but I'd like to pick up another prize right here. We might."
"A little too risky," said the captain, "with her on the watch. That's the talk, though. We're goin' to bring more'n one prize into New London, 'fore we git through."
Guert was well aware that the Noank had taken out what were called "letters of marque and reprisal," and was therefore a regularly authorized and commissioned commerce-destroyer. She was one of many. In several of the colonial ports, north and south, precisely such sea-wolves had long since made their preparations, and some were already at sea. They were making serious havoc and were soon to make more in the widely distributed, ocean-going commerce of Great Britain. It was a cruel, destructive, uncivilized kind of warfare, but it was customary among all the nations of the earth. In like manner, at this very date, British privateers were out after American prizes. These latter, moreover, had the regular cruisers of England as auxiliaries. Less agreeably, sometimes, the warships came in as business rivals or to claim a division of spoils. The Yankee privateers themselves constituted nearly the entire navy of the United States.
Sunrise does not come early in the month of January. It seems to come earlier and there is more of it, if the weather is clear. On the next morning after the arrival of the Trenton news, however, a thick white mist came drifting up New London harbor from the sea. There was only a light wind blowing from the westward, and it promised to be one of the hazy days of winter, such as come before a thaw.
"This 'ere is jest the thing for us," remarked Captain Avery, when he came out to see about the weather. "It's the right kind o' breeze for a schooner, and it's jest the wrong thing for a square rig. We can spread more canvas for our draft and tonnage than that king's brig can, anyhow."
There was no one to dispute him, and he and Vine and Guert were shortly on their way to the wharf. The Yankee shipbuilders, with abundance of the best timber at hand and any number of bays and inlets to work in, had constructed admirable shipyards upon plans of their own. Point after point they had gone away from antiquated models, and they had already made many important improvements in the building and rigging of all kinds of craft. Before many years, the whole sea-going world was to be forced to recognize their superiority.
All of the Noank's crew were on board when her captain reached her, and he at once gave orders to cast off from the wharf. Only a very few of her friends came down to see her go. Farewells had been already said, for the greater part, and even the sailors' wives had been aware that there would be no lingering. The Long Island whaleboat was nowhere to be seen. It might be that her hardy oarsmen, their errand accomplished, had set out to recross to their own shore under the cover of darkness.
"Some o' those island chaps," remarked Sam Prentice, "ain't but a little better'n so many buccaneers. They're up to 'most any kind o' pillagin'. Do ye know, Lyme, the first o' the West Injy pirates, long ago, made their beginnin' with very much that kind o' open boat? It was a good while before they were able to supply themselves with the right kind o' sailin' vessels."
"They did it, though," said Lyme.
"Murderous lot they were, too," said Vine. "They never left anybody alive to tell tales of 'em."
"Ugh! Ugh!" came from Up-na-tan, in a sort of snarl. "All Kidd men dead now. No come again."
The Manhattan had seated himself upon a coil of rope and was busy with a hone and the edge of a cutlass, as if he hoped to use it soon.
"No, they're not," replied Prentice, with energy. "There's enough of 'em yet. Some say they're gettin' worse'n ever within a year or so. This 'ere schooner's got to keep a sharp lookout for 'em, soon's we're among the islands."
"That's so, Sam," said Captain Avery. "I'll tell ye one thing more, too. I'd ruther come to close quarters with a cruiser like that there British brig than with one o' those half-Spanish West Injy picaroons. Some right well-armed British and French fightin' craft have found 'em dreadfully hard to handle."
"So would we," said Sam, "and I wouldn't at all mind sendin' one of 'em to the bottom. It'd be a matter o' life and death, ye know, for they don't show any kind o' mercy. Not to man, woman, or child."
Guert listened intently, for he had already heard, year after year, a great many terrible yarns concerning the rovers of the Antilles. Part of his daily business, too, was to listen well to whatever he might hear, and he was learning a great deal in various ways. Brought up on Manhattan Island, as he had been, he was familiar, of course, with the external appearance of all kinds of shipping, whether of war or peace. He had also seen a great deal of boat service. Now, however, he had discovered that all this had not made a sailor of him. He was only a mere beginner, although it seemed to him that he had been getting along rapidly ever since he first saw the Noank. This was his first actual cruising, but he had spent a great deal of time on board while she was waiting in port. He believed that he knew every nook and corner of her. He could go aloft like a squirrel or a monkey, but for all that he felt dreadfully raw and green among such a crew of seasoned old mariners. Every man of them, almost, could tell of long voyages. They knew the Antilles well, and the other groups of American islands. Some knew more of the coasts of South America, some of Europe. More in number, and even more full of daring and of danger, were the tales he had heard of the whale fishery, with its glimpse of ice-fields, icebergs, frozen seas, and its combats not only with the oil-producing monsters of the sea, but with white bears also, and walruses, and hostile red men; to him, therefore, these men of the Noank's company were the heroes of the ocean. He admired them tremendously, just now, as they discussed, in their matter-of-fact way, quietly, calmly, fearlessly, the seemingly desperate chances just before them. They all admitted, without hesitation, that it was a pretty doubtful problem whether or not they would be able to escape not only the one cruiser near them, but afterward the vigilant British blockade of the Sound entrance and of the adjacent waters. The Noank had very serious risks to run before she could spread her wings on the Atlantic.
The mist was hanging lower, thicker, whiter, and the morning gun from Fort Griswold had long since announced that in the opinion of the gunners the sun had risen.
"Hullo! What?" exclaimed Captain Avery, springing to his feet. "Another? They don't fire a shotted gun jest for sunrise."
His practical ears had told him that this report was not made by a blank cartridge. What could it mean?
"Gunner saw lobster ship," said Up-na-tan, quietly.
Away he went, then, toward his long eighteen, followed by Coco and Guert and several sailors.
"Captain Avery," he called back, "ole chief get gun ready. S'pose fort gunner no fool."
"Ready with her!" said the captain. "Ready! Every gun! Silence, all! This fog's a friend of ours."
The Indian's understanding of the shotted cannon was correct. The sharp-eyed lookout upon the rampart had detected something more than fog in the general whiteness which concealed the sea, and the nearest gunner had at once put in a nine-pound ball on top of his signal cartridge.
"That brig has crept in to watch for the Noank," they said to each other. "Let's give her a pill."
The pill went well enough for a warning to the Boxer that her sly creeping in had been discovered, but it did no damage. Probably its best use was the response it provoked from the too hasty gunners of the Boxer. For the brig to fire at the fort was mere bravado, of course; but her commander was nettled.
"Give 'em a broadside!" he roared. "Let 'em have it. They can't strike us out here in the mist. Blaze away!"
All the port guns of the brig, five in number, were of small account against earth and stone works; but they could express warlike feeling, and they immediately did so, and they did one thing more.
"Good!" said Captain Avery, as he heard them. "Now I know jest where she is. Wish I knew how she's headed. We've all sail on. Keep still, all! We can slip past her."
As quietly as so many ghosts, the men went hither and thither about their duties. They had not very much to do, for every square yard of the schooner's canvas was already taking that fair light wind. The brig, on the other hand, was by no means under full sail, for some reason, and she was tacking now that she might run deeper into the fog and out of the way of harm from the fort batteries. These were not wasting any more ammunition upon her, or rather upon the mist and the sea. Only her topsails had been seen, in the first place, and these had been quickly hidden again. The two vessels were, nevertheless, drawing nearer to each other, unawares. There was no carefully kept silence on board the Boxer; on the contrary, her crew were every now and then doing something to send out notice to any ears near enough to hear. At close quarters she would have been a dangerous antagonist for the Yankee schooner. There was nothing at all to be made in a fight with her, and Captain Avery was strongly averse to the idea of having his vessel crippled or worse at the very outset of his voyage.
A wonderful thing is a curtain of sea fog. Sometimes it may be beautiful, but it is never at all under human control. The Noank was running swiftly along and the very breeze which made her do so was getting its grip upon the banks of vapor. It tore one of these in the middle, suddenly. A great rift was opened, and clear water showed across one short half-mile of the tossing sea.
"There she blows!" sang out an old harpooner of the Noank's crew, as if the Boxer had been a whale.
"Luff! Luff!" shouted the British commander. "Bring your guns to bear! We have her! Hurrah!"
"Whoo-oop! Up-na-tan!" came fiercely from behind the breech of the Noank's long eighteen, and the Manhattan's warwhoop was closely followed by the roar of his gun.
"Hard a-lee!" called out Captain Avery. "Sam! Run her into the fog. All hands, to go about. We must get under cover ag'in."
Short range and a good aim, with the Boxer's masts nearly in line, had been bad for the Englishman's triumph. Down came his foretopmast, splintered at the cap, dragging with it enough of spars and hamper to assure that anything like racing condition had been knocked out of the brig. She obeyed her helm, at first. She swung around and her port broadside was delivered; but it was a mere waste of powder and round iron. Not a shot touched the saucy Noank, speeding away through a fog bank.
Loud, indeed, was the startled exclamation of the astonished British commander as he surveyed his unexpected damages.
"'Pon my soul!" he said. "That pirate is going to get away from us. This is too bad, altogether!"
His sailors sprang to do what they might for the wreck, but the appearance of things was unpromising.
"Good for you, Up-na-tan!" said Captain Avery. "That shot tells for old practice. I guess I'd better make you captain of that gun."
"Ole chief keep gun," replied the Indian. "Find gun shoot straight. Good!"
"I'm mighty glad o' that," said the captain. "I mean to train every hand on board, though. We may get stuck where we can't afford to miss a shot. Straight shootin' is better than the heaviest kind o' shootin' that doesn't hit."
The breeze was increasing finely, and away went the swift privateer. She had escaped from her first pursuer, and not far ahead of her, now, were pretty surely her next batch of perils.
The easterly end of Long Island is exceedingly ragged in its contour. It is made up of straggling promontories, bays, inlets, and the adjacent waters contain many islands, large and small, with outlying rocky ledges. The opposite shore, the mainland of New England, is of a similar character. Between them, the eastern sound and the neck of water by which it is to be entered, provide a great deal of pretty circumspect navigation.
It is said, although no one now living was there at the time to collect testimony, that once the mainland and the island were connected by a rugged isthmus, now sunken or washed away. If it were ever there, enough of it is left to require good piloting.
A fleet of war-ships proposing to blockade or supervise the port of Boston, may at the same time extend its operations so as to cork up the Sound. This process, if made sufficiently thorough, may include in the blockade such ports as New London, Providence, New Haven, and their smaller neighbors. All of these, during the Revolutionary War, were not only developing rapidly their regular commercial relations but were nests of privateering enterprises.
The British naval authorities were often unable to detail for this part of their general blockade of America a sufficient number of ships, and it was a service much disliked by their captains and crews, especially in winter.
The area of ocean to be patrolled was wide, and in spite of all watching the Yankee ships ran in and out. Boston, especially, was building up again, after its long period of military occupation, siege, and desolation, much to the disgust of its many enemies.
During some hours after the escape of the Noank from the Boxer, Up-na-tan was down in the hold, and Guert Ten Eyck was with him. The old Manhattan was no builder of ships, whatever he might be able to do for a canoe, but he had seen a great many, here and there. He seemed now to be carrying on a kind of critical investigation of the naval architecture of the schooner.
"What is it?" asked Guert, as his red friend placed a hand curiously upon one of the ribs of the vessel and glanced from that to other timbers.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Good stick. Like lobster war-ship. All make schooner strong. Carry long gun!"
"Captain Avery wishes she could," said Guert. "The mate thinks she can't."
"No gun anyhow, now," said the chief, shaking his head. "Wait!"
The subject of the Manhattan's inquiry belonged to a controversy then going forward among the royal naval constructors and sea-captains. The reason why England's third and fourth rate cruisers carried only light guns, and many of them, was simply their frail timbering. Too heavy artillery might rack them dangerously. It would call for precisely the strength of frame provided by American shipyards for craft which might bump an ice-floe.
Up-na-tan was still further informing himself concerning the skeleton of the Noank, when a shout from above summoned them both.
"Guert," called down Captain Avery, "you and he come to the cabin. Now all's clear, you must learn something."
On the deck all things were quiet. Not a sail was in sight that indicated a craft as large as their own. The schooner was spinning along, with all sails set and a fair wind in them. Everything about her, from deck to topmast, wore a clean, orderly, service look, that spoke volumes for the high character of her crew. She was all ready to do her best at any moment, and she was sure of being well handled. Perhaps a seaman would have critically remarked upon the fact that with such a wind she was not taking a course directly out into the Atlantic.
The captain's cabin, well aft below deck, was a small affair. It seemed almost crowded when only half a dozen persons were in it.
"Now, Guert," said Captain Avery, "if I don't make the chief understand, you must explain it to him. Talk Dutch, or any other lingo. He's the sharpest lookout there is on board, and he's a prime steersman. He must know what some things mean."
"What things?" asked Guert.
Two rugged old sailors who had entered the cabin with Sam Prentice, also looked on inquiringly, while the captain went to a locker and took out of it a leather case.
"Guert," he said, "it's the first duty of the commander of a ship that's being taken by an enemy to put his private signal-book overboard. It's kept weighted all the while, so it will sink. Now, Luke Watts did his duty in that particular. His mate and his crew looked on and saw him do it. So did I. They saw him drown something like this."
The case was open, now, and out of it was drawn what appeared to be several sheets of parchments, wired together, so that they might be rolled up like a pamphlet.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "Chief know 'em. Ship talk with lantern. Talk to other ship with flag. Captain got plenty lantern? Plenty flag? Tell Up-na-tan how."
A deep cupboard under the captain's bunk was at once thrown open, and its contents were interesting. Red, green, blue, yellow, white, large lanterns and small. Beside them lay a collection of sheafs of rockets, each of which carried a written parchment tab to tell its nature. Signal flags were there, also, in tightly tied-up rolls, and Up-na-tan loudly grunted his approval of them.
"First, now, for the book," said the captain. "Every man on board can be trusted to know signals. There isn't one traitor in the Noank, nor a fool, either. Sam and I must go on deck. You and the men and the redskin stay here and study those things. Git 'em all into your head, if you can. We may have a lot o' sharp dodgin' to do, this cruise."
Out he went, taking Sam with him, and then it at once appeared that Guert had become a remarkable kind of schoolmaster, trying to explain to others what he did not know himself. The two sailors were not altogether unlettered men, but lack of practice had left them slow at deciphering handwriting, and Guert seemed to have a knack of it. As for the Indian, he did not know one letter from another, but he could handle flags and lanterns as if they were hunting signs or the totems of clans and tribes. Signal after signal was picked out and its working practically illustrated in questions or answers.
"'Top!" exclaimed Up-na-tan, at last. "Head full! See more by and by." So said the sailors, and Guert himself felt as if he had been going through a hard time at a new school.
"But wasn't that a cute thing of Luke Watts!" he thought, as he came on deck. "I'd like to try some o' those signals on a British ship. I don't know how far we've run. The captain says our tightest squeeze isn't far ahead of us, now."
The schooner, oddly enough, was actually running within sight of Block Island. Some, at least, of her perils must be behind her. Perhaps more would have been if a sailing vessel could go straight ahead, in any direction, like a steamer. That, however, is one of several things that she cannot do. Many an hour of swift sailing, tacking back and forth, must often be extended in gaining only a few miles of her true course.
The crew of the Noank were not at all puzzled by the peculiar manner in which she was handled, and some of their faces betrayed anxiety.
"Guess ole Avery wish dark come," remarked Coco to his friends as they stood together at the foremast. "Lobster out yonder, somewhere."
It was only about the middle of the afternoon, and the captain's telescope was busy every few minutes.
"Ugh!" said Up-na-tan. "'Tack to Montauk. No go out yet. Captain head good. Want fog. Want night."
There was a laugh behind them, and Guert swung around to ask of Sam Prentice:—
"Can you tell me how it is, sir?"
"I guess I can," said the mate. "We know a good deal more'n we did. While you were all below, we spoke a Providence man. Cod-fisher. My boy, there's a whole fleet of Britishers out there, somewhere, spread all along. Merchantmen, troop-ships, cruisers. Some of 'em heavy fellers. We must keep well in, for a while."
"Ugh!" said the red man. "Mate let ole chief take glass. Want look."
Prentice had with him his marine telescope, an unusually good one, and he at once handed it to the Manhattan.
"Your eyes are 'most as good as glasses," he said. "Let's see what you can make out with that. I saw a sail, myself. Pretty well down, easterly."
There is a great deal of difference in eyes, even in good ones, and the American red men possess peculiar faculties for sign reading.
"Ugh!" said the Indian, after slowly and carefully sweeping the sea and the horizon with the glass. "Bad! Noank 'tay in. One war-ship. One, two, three, four other ship."
"Men-of-war and the convoy!" exclaimed Prentice. "Lyme Avery! Here they are! Come this way! If the redskin hasn't sighted 'em!"
"Ship o' line," now remarked Up-na-tan. "Frigate. Little gun ship."
"Let me take the glass," said the captain, as he came; "it's a good deal more'n we had reason to expect. Makes things look kind o' cloudy."
"Well," said Sam, "it's about what the Boston pilot told that Providence feller. If we'd ha' gone on in too much of a hurry, we'd ha' run right in among 'em."
"They're north o' their best course for New York," remarked the captain. "I wonder if any of 'em are from Halifax. It may mean more army to fight General Washington."
"Mebbe," said Sam. "It's likely some of 'em are the reg'lar coast cruisers. As for the convoy, they're slow and heavy. It's about the course I'd expect them to run."
"We'll take in sail and heave to," said the captain. "Our safest hidin'd be under Martha's Vineyard."
They were not a very long reach from that island now. There were several fishing smacks in sight, and none of them were taking in sail. It looked, rather, as if they were all heading homeward. Perhaps they, too, had been warned of a British fleet, and every man on board of them was in danger of pitiless impressment, if his boat were to come within range of the guns of a king's ship.
In came the sails of the Noank, and then came a time of watching, waiting, and anxiety.
"Nine sail in sight," remarked Captain Avery, at last, "and there's more'n that to come. British flag on every one of 'em. Of course, they've sighted us, long before this."
"One comin' for us, I guess," said Coco.
"Headin' this way, sure!"
"I guess so," said the captain, quietly. "It's gettin' dusk, though. Her glasses won't do any good, much longer.—Men! All sail! Jump, now! Our time's come!"
His manner had undergone a sudden change, and there was a red flush on his face. The men heard him say to his son:—
"No, Vine, I won't be taken. I'll fight that nighest feller, if I've got to. He isn't a heavy one."
His orders went out fast, and the schooner was quickly under a cloud of canvas. She had indeed been noticed by the British commanders, and arrangements had been made to overhaul her, as a matter of course.
Her flight, or at least her escape, from such a fleet as she was now facing, was an absurdity not to be thought of. Whatever sort of American craft she might be, she was soon to have an officer and a boat's crew on board of her, ascertaining how many of her sailors it was best to take into the service of the king.
"Father," suggested Vine, "they won't send a boat till they're nearer than this, a good deal. The sea's getting a bit rough, too, and the wind's fresh'ning."
"I don't care how many boats they send," replied the captain. "I can sink 'em as they come. We'll run farther in behind Nantucket, but we won't go too far. The redskin says he saw a topsail off the channel that's cut too square to suit us."
"Reg'lar cruiser's tops'l," put in Sam Prentice. "How she came to be there, I don't know. Are they layin' a trap for us? Lyme, this 'ere's goin' to be touch and go."
"It'll be go, then," said the captain.
"Maybe we won't touch, either. It's promisin' the darkest kind o' night. They won't dream o' what our next long tack'll be.—Men! All hands! Hark a moment, now!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" came back from all sides, and as many as could came crowding around him.
"There may be more'n twenty sail, of all sorts, yonder, for all we know," he said. "We make it out it's the British army supply fleet, with troop-ships full of redcoats and Hessians. Likely, too, there are reg'lar merchantmen for New York. They've a strong convoy, j'ined, jest now, by the blockade ships, big and little. I calc'late, the more of 'em there is, the better for us. I'm goin' to run the Noank right through 'em. Sam Prentice, take some men and fetch up the lanterns and rockets. Now, boys, I ain't sure but we'll have a little fun, but there mustn't be a loud word spoke on board this schooner."
With subdued laughter and chuckles of appreciation, the men scattered to their duties. There was not a sign of fear among them and hardly an expression of doubt as to the result.
The schooner herself seemed to go into the daring undertaking before her, with all her heart as well as with all sails set. She swung around upon her seaward tack and went with a speed that did her credit.
It was dark, and the darkness was deepening. Far away as yet, and in all directions, the lights that were hung out by the British ships, both of war and peace, were glimmering and twinkling as they rose and fell with the surges that bore them. It was shortly evident that some of these were signals that were exchanging, in accordance with the directions of the secret signal code, and Captain Avery began to assort and arrange his lanterns.
"Sam," he said, "I guess I'll answer that call to close up with the flag-ship. All the rest of our fleet are answerin' it."
"Lyme," responded Prentice, "I'm in for fun, if there is any. Why couldn't we mix 'em up?"
"We'll try, anyhow," said the captain.
"Cap'n," put in Up-na-tan, almost respectfully, so strong was getting to be his warrior admiration for the cunning and courage of his commander, "s'pose we tell lobster ship, rebel enemy come. Rebel right here. Make 'em feel good. Fire gun!"
"I guess that's about as sharp a thing as we could do," replied the captain. "Guert, pick out those white rockets. Hand 'em over."
Guert was having the fireworks under his especial charge, for he was found able to read the somewhat roughly written tabs.
"Here they are, sir," he said in half a minute. "There's plenty more of that kind."
Vine Avery had the lanterns, and he had already made use of them in mocking replies to more than one swinging, dancing signal.
Now, as the captain lighted the rockets, up into the gloom went fizzing and flashing the prescribed announcement of danger. Each rocket let out, as it exploded, a pretty large ball of red flame, as if to emphasize its message. War-ship after war-ship told her character by responding with a similar rocket, the merchantmen keeping quiet, and then from the flag-ship of the fleet came the boom of a heavy gun.
"Heavens!" suddenly exclaimed Captain Avery, as he watched for those responses. "One o' their cruisers is nigher'n I'd counted on! Starboard your helm, Sanders! All ready to go about!"
"Ship ahoy!" came out of the gloom beyond them. "Amphitrite! What ship's that? Where are the enemy? What is she?"
"Kr-g-h-um-n, of Liverpool," sang out Captain Avery huskily, indistinctly, through his trumpet.
"They won't make much out of that," Guert was thinking, but the British officer angrily shouted back:—
"Kraken, of Liverpool? You blockhead! What do I care for that? Where away's the Yankee?"
"Armed schooner, sir! Pirate! Passed close by, westerly. Say 'bout two p'ints south."
"Where away, now, stupid?"
"On the lee bow, sir," trumpeted the captain. "Runnin' free. We was nigh 'nough to see her guns."
"Blockhead!" came back. "Why didn't you signal sooner? You deserve a good rope's ending! Close up with the admiral!"
"Ay, ay, sir! There she goes! They're gettin' hold of her," responded Captain Avery.
For at that moment another gun from another man-of-war sounded well to leeward. It was accompanied by more rocket signals that went up to be read by all the fleet.
"Captain," sang out Guert, as he tried to read them, "green rocket bursting into red. It means 'Pirate in chase of merchantman.'"
"All right," said the captain, "it's some other feller. We're not in chase of anybody. Up-na-tan! Vine! swing out that biggest blue lantern. I'll send up a blue rocket burstin' yeller and green. Then douse the lanterns."
"What does that mean, father?" inquired Vine, raising the blue lights.
"Mean?" uproariously responded the captain. "Why! it means 'Mutiny on board ship. Send help to quell mutiny.'"
The British admiral saw that rare and exceedingly annoying signal with intense indignation.
"That's it!" he stormed, "another 'cursed mutiny! That comes of crowding the king's ships with the off-scourings of the merchant service, and jail-birds, and slaves, and picaroons, and 'pressed Yankee rebels. Not one of 'em's fit to be trusted. The king'll lose ships by it! They'd better be all hung!"
Meantime, under an almost perilous press of sail for such a wind and so rough a sea, the stanch, swift Noank was dashing along her course. Every minute carried her oceanward, but not all her dangers were behind her.
Rapid signalling went on between the British war-ships and their now frightened convoy. The unarmed vessels were hurrying toward their protectors like so many chickens toward a clucking hen. No other incident or accident of any importance occurred to any of them. As hour after hour went by in the darkness of the night, and then in the very chilly morning that followed, an eager, angry, discomforting process of inquiry went forward from ship to ship. Upon which of them had been the mutiny? Had it succeeded? Had it been put down? Did the mutineers take the boats and get away?
"Not on this ship, sir," was the altogether uniform response, and all the vessels known to be in company had been accounted for.
Not only was it that not one solitary mutineer could be discovered: it also appeared that no such ship as the Kraken, of Liverpool, had at any time joined herself to that convoy.
"'Pon my soul!" exclaimed the astonished admiral, at last, "this is great! Ponsonby, my dear fellow, the chap that hailed you in the dark must have been the Yankee pirate himself. What do you think?"
"I think he got away, sir," calmly replied Captain Ponsonby, of the Amphitrite, forty-four. "The rebel rascal has slipped through our fingers in the most audacious manner. Showed pluck, too."
"He did!" groaned the admiral.