"Ay, that will do," remarked the captain. "We go better already. I am most anxious to get clear of the Capes before nightfall. Call the men aft, and request the officers to come up on the quarterdeck. I wish to speak to them."

"Ay, ay, sir.--Mr. Wilton," said the young officer, turning to a young midshipman, standing on the lee-side of the deck, "step below and ask the officers there, and those forward, to come on deck. Bentley," he called to the boatswain, "call all hands aft."

"Ay, ay, sir."

Again the shrill whistling of the pipes was heard, followed by the deep tones of Bentley, which rolled and tumbled along the decks of the ship in the usual long-drawn monotonous cry, which could be heard, above the roar of the wind or the rush of the water or the straining of the timbers, from the truck to the keelson: "All hands lay aft, to the quarter-deck."

The captain, standing upon the p.o.o.p-deck, was not, at first glance, a particularly imposing figure. He was small in stature, scarcely five and a half feet high at best, with his natural height diminished, as is often the case with sailors, by a slight bending of the back and stooping of the shoulders; yet he possessed a well-knit, vigorous, and not ungraceful figure, whose careless poise, and the ease with which he maintained his position, with his hands clasped behind his back, in spite of the rather heavy roll and pitch of the ship, in the very strong breeze, indicated long familiarity with the sea.

His naturally dark complexion was rendered extremely swarthy by the long exposure to weather, and tropic weather at that, which he had undergone. The expression of his face was of that abstract and thoughtful, nay, even melancholy, cast which we commonly a.s.sociate with the student rather than the man of affairs. He was dressed in the prescribed uniform of a captain of the American navy, in the Revolutionary period: a dark blue cloth coat with red lapels, slashed cuffs, and stand-up collar, flat gold b.u.t.tons (this last a piece of unusual extravagance); blue breeches, and a red waistcoat heavily laced; silk stockings and buckled shoes, with a curved cross-hilted sword and c.o.c.ked hat, completed his attire. As the men came crowding aft to the main mast, the idlers tumbling up through the hatches in response to the command, his indifferent look gave way to one of quick attention, and each individual seaman seemed to be especially embraced in the severe scrutiny with which he regarded the ma.s.s. In truth, they were a crew of which any officer might well be proud; somewhat motley and nondescript as to uniform and appearance, perhaps, and unused to the strict discipline of men-of-war, but hardy, bold, resolute seamen, with whom, properly led, all things were possible,--men who would hesitate at nothing in the way of attack, and who were permeated with such an intensity of hate for England and for British men-of-war as made them the most dangerous foes that country ever encountered on the seas. Several of them, Bentley among the number, had been pressed, at one time or another, on English war vessels; and one or two had even felt the lash upon their backs, and bore shocking testimony, in deep-scarred wounds, to the barbaric method of punishment in vogue for the maintenance of discipline in the British navy, and, indeed, in all the great navies of the world,--a practice, however, but little resorted to by the American navy.

The officers, gathered in a little knot on the lee side of the quarter-deck, several midshipmen among them, were worthy of the crew and the commander.

"Men," said the captain, in a clear, firm voice, removing his c.o.c.ked hat from his thick black hair, tied in a queue and entirely devoid of powder, as he looked down at them from the break of the p.o.o.p with his piercing black eyes, "we are bound for English waters--"

"Hurrah, hurrah!" cried many voices from the crew, impetuously.

"We will show the new flag for the first time on the high seas," he continued, visibly pleased, and pointing proudly to the stars and stripes, which his own hand had first hoisted, fluttering gayly out at the peak; "and I trust we may strike a blow or two which will cause it, and us, to be long remembered. While you are under my orders I shall expect from you prompt, unquestioned compliance with my commands, or those of my officers, and a ready submission to the hard discipline of a ship-of-war, to which most of you, I suspect, are unfamiliar, unless you have learned it in that bitter school, a British ship. You will learn, however, while principles of equality are very well in civil life, they have no place in the naval service. Subordination is the word here; this is not a trading-vessel, but a ship-of-war, and I intend to be implicitly obeyed," he continued sternly, looking even more fiercely at them. "Nevertheless," he added, somewhat relaxing his set features, "although we be not a peaceful merchantman, yet I expect and intend to do a little trading with the ships of the enemy, and in any prizes which we may capture, you know you will all have a just, nay, a liberal, share. It must not be lost sight of, however, that the first business of this ship, as of every other ship-of-war of our country, is to fight the ships of the enemy of equal, or of not too great, force. Should we find such a one, as is most likely, in the English Channel, we must remember that the honor and glory of our flag are above prize money."

"Three cheers for Captain John Paul Jones!" cried one of the seamen, leaping on a gun and waving his hat; they were given with a mighty rush from nearly two hundred l.u.s.ty throats, the ship being heavily overmanned for future emergencies.

"That will do, men," said the captain, smiling darkly. "Remember that a willing crew makes a happy cruise--and don't wake the sleeping cat![1] Mr. Seymour, have the boatswain pipe all hands to grog, then set the watches. Mr. Talbot," he added, turning to the young officer in the familiar buff and blue of the Continental army, who stood by his side, an interested and attentive spectator to all that had occurred, "will you do me the honor of taking a gla.s.s of wine with me in the cabin?--I should be glad if you would join us also, Mr. Seymour, after the watch has been called, and you can leave the deck. Let Mr.

Wallingford have the watch; he is familiar with the bay. Tell him to take in the royal and the fore and mizzen topgallantsails if it blows heavily," he continued, after a pause, and then, bowing, he left the deck.

[1] The cat-o'-nine-tails, used for punishment by flogging.

CHAPTER XII

_An Important Commission_

Meanwhile, interesting conversations were going on forward, of which this is a sample.

"I 'm blest if I like this orderin' business," said one grizzled seaman; "they said he was h--l on orders, but what I shipped for was prize money and a chance to get a lick at them b.l.o.o.d.y Britishers; not for to clean bra.s.s work, an' sc.r.a.pe spars, an' flemish down, an'

holy-stone decks, which he won't let us spit terbacker on. I don't call this no fighting fur liberty, not by a durn sight."

"Shut up, Bill," replied another; "you've got to obey orders. This yere ain't no old tea wagon, no fishing-boat, you old s...o...b..nker, it's a wessel-o'-war; and may I never see Nantucket again if the old man,"

using a merchantman's expression, "ain't goin' to be captain of the old hooker while he's in it. And if you call this hard work and growl at this kind o' dissyplin'--well, all I got ter say, you'd oughter been on the old Radnor. Curse the British devils!" he cried, grinding his heel in the deck. "I 'd give twenty years of my life to be alongside her in a ship half her size; yes, even in this one, and I tell ye yon 's the man to put her there, if he gets a chance. Ain't that so, mates?"

"Ay, ay, Jack, 'tis true," came a deep-toned chorus of approval.

"Besides," went on the forecastle orator, "we all know'd wot kind of a officer he is. Fightin' and prize money is wot we all want; and here 's where we 'll git it, you 'll see, eh, mates?"

"Ay, ay; Jack's right, Bill."

"Then blow the dissyplin', say I; I'll take orders from a man wot ain't afraid o' nothin', wot hates the red rag we knows of, wot won't send me where he won't go himself. Fightin' and prize money, he 's our man.

Besides, wot's the use o' kickin', we got to do it; we're bound by them articles of war we signed," continued this deep-sea philosopher. "Now, pa.s.s me my can o' grog, Tom, I 'm dry as a cod. Here 's to America, and d.a.m.n the British, too," continued this sea lawyer, drinking his toast amid shouts of approval from the men.

Left to himself, Seymour, after the men had received their grog, and other necessary duties had been attended to, turned the deck over to Lieutenant Wallingford, whose watch it was with Philip Wilton, and, descending the p.o.o.p-deck ladder, disappeared through the same door which had received the two officers into the cabin.

Three weeks had elapsed since the raid upon the Wilton place, and the scene had shifted from Virginia to the sea, or rather to the great bay which gives entrance to it, from the Delaware River. It was a clear cold day in the early part of December, and the American Continental ship Ranger had just left her moorings off Philadelphia, with orders to proceed to English waters; stopping at Brest to receive the orders of the commissioners in Paris, and then, in case no better ship could be found, to ravage the English Channel and coast, as a warning that like processes, on the part of England on our own sh.o.r.es, should not go unpunished.

John Paul Jones, who had already given evidence, not only of that desperate courage and unyielding tenacity which had marked him as among the most notable of sea officers the world has seen,--lacking nothing but opportunity to have equalled, if not surpa.s.sed a Nelson--but of consummate seamanship and great executive ability as well, had been appointed to command the ship. Before proceeding on the mission, however, an important undertaking had been allotted to him. The commissioners had sent word from France, by a fast-sailing armed packet, of the near departure of a transport from England, called the Mellish, laden with two thousand muskets, twenty field-pieces, powder, and other munitions of war, and ten thousand suits of winter clothes, destined for the army that was a.s.sembling at Halifax and Quebec for the invasion of the colonies, by way of the St. Lawrence River and Lake Champlain.

Congress had transmitted the letter from France to Captain Jones, with directions that he endeavor to intercept and capture this transport.

The dest.i.tution of the American army at this period of the war was frightful: devoid of clothes, arms, provisions, powder,--everything, in fact, which is apparently vital to the existence of an army; continually beaten, menaced by a confident, well-equipped, and disciplined enemy in overwhelming force, and before whom they had been habitually retreating, they were only held together by the indomitable will and heroic resolution of one man, George Washington. The fortunes of the colonies were never at a lower ebb than at that moment, and there was apparently nothing further to look forward to but a continuation of the disintegration until the end came. The meagre resources of the lax confederacy were already strained to the utmost, and the capture of a ship laden as this one was reported to be, would be of incalculable service. Clothes and shoes to cover the nakedness of the soldiery and protect them from the inclemency of the winter, now fast approaching, and arms to put in their hands, by means of which they could a.s.sume the offensive and attack the enemy, or at least defend themselves--what more could they desire! The desperate nature of the situation, the dire need of just such additions to the equipment of the army, had been plainly communicated to Captain Jones, and he was resolved to effect the capture if it were humanly possible. The matter had also been reported to General Washington; and such was his opinion of the necessity of a prompt distribution and a speedy forwarding of the supplies, if they could be secured, by the blessing of Providence, and so little was his faith in the inefficient commissariat, which, moreover, had to endeavor to keep the balance between different colonies and different bodies of troops, more or less loosely coherent, that he had detailed one of his own staff officers to accompany the ship, with explicit instructions as to the exact distribution and the prompt forwarding which the needs of the troops rendered necessary, when the captured ship should reach port, which would probably be Boston, though circ.u.mstances might render it advisable to take the longer journey to Philadelphia. The officer to whom this duty had been allotted was Talbot, of whose capacity and energy General Washington already thought highly; the three weeks of their military a.s.sociation only confirming his previous opinion. It was understood that Seymour, who was Jones' first lieutenant, and would shortly be promoted to a captaincy, would bring back the transport if they were lucky enough to capture it. In case they were unsuccessful, Talbot was to report himself to the commissioners at Paris as military secretary, until further orders; and Seymour was to command the Ranger, when Jones should get a better ship in France.

The Ranger was a small sloop of war, a corvette of perhaps five hundred tons, with a raised p.o.o.p and a topgallant forecastle, built at Portsmouth, New Hampshire; a new ship, and one of the first of those built especially for naval purposes. She was originally intended for twenty-six guns, but the number, through the wisdom of her captain, who had fathomed the qualifications of the ship, had been reduced to eighteen, four long twelves, and the rest six pounders, and smaller, with one long eighteen forward. She had been some days in commission, and the effect of Jones' iron discipline was already apparent in the absence of confusion and in the cleanness and order of the ship. The vessel had been very popular with the good people of Philadelphia, her commander and officers likewise, many of the latter, like Seymour, being natives of the town; and a constant stream of visitors had inspected her, at all permitted hours. The presence of these visitors, of course including many ladies, coupled with an inherent vanity and love of finery and neatness on the part of the captain,--and, to do him justice, his appreciation of the necessity for order and neatness,--had caused him to maintain his ship in the handsomest possible trim, and he had not scrupled to employ his private fortune to beautify the vessel in many small ways, the details of which would have escaped any eye but that of a seaman, though the general results were apparent.

That general appearance which should always distinguish a trim and well-ordered vessel of war from the clumsy and disorderly trader, was due entirely to his efforts. The crew, as we have seen, had chafed under the unusual restraints of this stern discipline; but they were unable, as, indeed, in the last resort they would have been unwilling, to oppose it. Some of the older men, too, and some of those who had sailed with Jones in his already famous cruises, held out the hope of large prize money, and, what was better with many of them, the chance of a blow at the enemy, if any of her cruisers of anything like equal force appeared,--a chance sure to come about in the frequented waters of the English Channel. The crew of an American man-of-war at that period, at least the native portion of it, always in overwhelming majority, was of much higher cla.s.s than the general run of seafaring men. Among those in the Ranger were several who had been mates of merchantmen,--Bentley again among the number,--men of some education, and able to serve their country as officers with credit, had the navy been increased as it should have been, and whose subordinate positions only indicated their intense patriotism. The low and degraded element which sometimes is such a source of mischief and disaster in ships'

crews, was conspicuous by its absence. The reputation of Captain Jones as a disciplinarian was very well known among sailors generally, and only his reputation as a fighter and a successful prize-taker would have enabled him to a.s.semble the remarkable crew to which he had spoken, and which was to back him up so gallantly in many desperate undertakings and wonderful sea fights, of this and his succeeding phenomenal cruise.

Seymour had rapidly recovered from his wounds under Madam Talbot's careful nursing and ministrations, and when his orders reached him he had been ready, accompanied by Philip Wilton and Bentley, to join his ship at once.

He still carried the blood-stained handkerchief, and many and many a time had laid it, with its initials, "K. W.," embroidered by her own hand, upon his lips. This was not his only treasure, however. In a wallet in the breast pocket of his coat he carried and treasured a letter, only the veriest sc.r.a.p of paper, with these few lines hastily written upon it.

_These by a friendly hand. We are to accompany Lord Dunmore to England next week as prisoners in the ship Radnor. Both well, but very unhappy. I love you.----Katharine._

This note had been brought to him, the day before his departure from Fairview Hall, by one of the slaves from the Wilton place, who had in turn received it from a stranger who had handed it to him with the orders that it be given to Lieutenant Seymour if he were within the neighborhood; if not, it was to be destroyed. There was no address on the outside of the letter, which, indeed, was only a soiled and torn bit of paper, and unsealed. Seymour had hitherto communicated this news to no one, and was hesitating whether or no to tell Talbot, who had that day joined the ship.

Seymour found Talbot and the captain together, when, after giving his name to the negro boy, Joe, who waited in attendance, for Captain Jones was one of the most punctilious of men, he was ushered into the captain's cabin.

"Come in, Seymour," said the captain, genially, laying aside the formal address of the quarter-deck. "Joe, a gla.s.s of wine for Mr. Seymour.

Has the watch been set?"

"Yes, sir, and Lieutenant Wallingford has the deck."

"Ah, that's well; he knows the channel like a pilot. Sit down, man."

"Thank you, captain. How do you like your first experience on a ship-of-war, Talbot?"

"Very much, indeed," answered the young officer; "and if we shall only succeed in capturing the transport I shall like it much better."

"Well, gentlemen," said Captain Jones, "I will give you a toast. Here 's to a successful cruise, many prizes, good chances at the enemy, and, of course, first of all, the capture of the transport, though that will deprive me of the pleasure of your society. I intend to bear away to the northeast immediately we pa.s.s the Capes, and I count upon striking the transport somewhere off Halifax. If we should succeed in capturing her, I am of the opinion, if her cargo proves as valuable as reported, that my best course would be to convoy her to one of our ports, or at least so far upon her way as to insure her safe arrival. The cargo would be too important to be lost or recaptured under any circ.u.mstances," he continued meditatively. "Well, I think I would better go on deck for the present. You will excuse me, Mr. Talbot, I am sure. You will both dine with me to-night. Seymour, a word with you," he continued, opening the door and going out, followed by his executive officer.

CHAPTER XIII

_A Clever Stratagem_

Six days out from the Capes of Delaware Bay, and the Ranger was cruising between Halifax and Boston, about one hundred leagues east of Cape Sable. If there be truth in the maxim that a ship is never fit for action until she has been a week at sea, the Ranger might be considered as ready for any emergency now. The crew had thoroughly learned their stations; they and the officers had become acquainted with each other; the possibilities of the ship in different weather, and on various points of sailing, had been ascertained. The drill at quarters twice daily, and the regular target practice with great guns, and the exercises with small arms, had materially developed the offensive and defensive possibilities of the ship.