When Enoch reached home it was pretty near night. He found his mother there, engaged in her usual occupation of reading the book, and without saying a word she put it down and got up and embraced her boy as though she had not seen him for long months.
"Why, mother, you must have thought I was in some danger," said Enoch.
"You failed, did you not?" asked his mother in reply.
"We failed from not surrounding the church as we ought to have done," said Enoch, in a discouraged tone. "They went straight through the house, hoisted the windows behind the preacher and so got away; and we never saw them at all until they were so far away that we could not catch them. There were seven of them there."
"I wanted to go out when they were firing at you but I did not dare. They must have hit some of you, of course?"
"They did not try to hit us. They just fired over our heads, and then got the schooner under way and dropped three miles down the bay. I wanted that the fellows should capture one of the sloops and go out there and take her, but they would not agree to it. Caleb is on that boat and he is in irons, too."
"How do you know that?"
"James Howard told me so, and it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself. If those men are not any braver to-morrow than they were to-day, we will not capture the schooner."
Enoch said this with a despairing air, as if he did not much care whether or not the schooner were captured, and then asked his mother if she had anything to eat. He had not had a mouthful since early that morning and he felt the need of something nourishing. His mother replied by serving up the dinner which she had kept warm for him, and Enoch sat down to it with an appetite which not even the discouragements of the day could wholly interfere with. He told his mother everything that had happened to him since he took leave of her in the morning, including his conversation with James Howard, and by the time he got through Mrs. Crosby was as disgusted as he was.
"It seems to me that by the time that schooner got under way to drop down the bay would have been a good season to have followed her up," said she, picking up the book again. "I am afraid that some of you are going to get hurt to-morrow."
"Do you believe that they will make an attack on her?" exclaimed Enoch.
"Of course I do. Such men as Zeke and O'Brien will not let this thing go by default."
"I hope to goodness you're right. The first thing I do when I find myself aboard that schooner will be to keep my eyes and ears open for Caleb Young. I tell you I will be glad to see him."
His mother's words put a little encouragement into his heart, but still Enoch did not feel inclined to talk. He kept thinking of Caleb all the while, but bedtime came at length, and he kissed his mother good night and went off to his room. He slept, too, for you will remember that he didn't get any slumber on the previous night. He did not know anything more until his mother opened his door and called him to breakfast.
"I declare, mother, I do not often let you get up and build a fire," said Enoch, as he opened the door and walked out on the porch to wash his hands and face. "You see—what's that?"
Enoch paused with his hands full of soap, which he had been on the point of rubbing on his face, and straightened up. Faint and far off, but still distinct, came the sound for which he had been so long waiting. Clear and loud above all came the voice of Zeke, so penetrating that there was not another voice in the company of men that he had gathered that could imitate him.
"Mother, mother!" exclaimed Enoch, drying his face upon the towel. "The cheer has come. I must be off at once."
"You will not have time to eat any breakfast, so I will fix up a snack for you to eat as you go along," said his mother, walking briskly to the table. "There is a gun, my boy, that never misses its mark," she continued, as Enoch mounted into a chair and took the old flint-lock down from its place. "Don't you get it into any bad habits. May heaven send you back to me safe and sound."
There were no tears shed on either side. Enoch was going to do his duty as any Union-loving boy might, his mother was encouraging him in it, and both of them hoped for the best. Enoch slung on his powder-horn and bullet-pouch, seized the bite which his mother had put up for him, and rushed out to the gate; but he had not made many steps when he saw Mrs. Young coming toward him. Her face was pale, but she did not act as though she had been crying.
"The next time you see me you will see Caleb," said Enoch, never once slackening his pace. "He is aboard that boat and I know it. Good-by."
"Oh, Enoch, be sure and release Caleb for me," said Mrs. Young. "Remember he is all I have."
"When you see me you will see Caleb, too. I shall not return without him."
Enoch ran along, not going half as fast as he might, for he had his breakfast to eat on the way, and when he arrived opposite Mr. Howard's house he saw all of the family out on the porch listening to the cheer which every few minutes came as long and as loud as ever. Enoch was going by without speaking to them, but hearing the sound of his footsteps James came out to the gate and stopped him.
"What is your hurry?" said he. "Where are you going?"
"I have business on hand, and I can't stop to talk you," was the reply.
"That cheer must amount to something, or you would not be in such haste to answer it," said James. "Does it mean that all you rebels are to go down there? There goes another," he added, pointing to a man who just then came out of a house and started toward the wharf, carrying a pitchfork in his hand. "You men are going to get into trouble."
"Well, we are not the only ones who will be there," said Enoch, shouting the words over his shoulder.
"You think you are going to get that schooner, don't you?" yelled James, for the rapid pace at which Enoch was traveling took him almost out of the reach of his (James') voice. "Wait until you come back. The last one of you will be in irons."
We do not know whether these words reached Enoch, but if they did they had no effect upon him. Having crowded all his breakfast into his mouth, he carried his gun at "arms port" and ran with all speed toward the wharf. When he came within sight of it he found that the good work was already going on. There were thirty men there at work at one of the sloops throwing her deck-load overboard, and on the shore were the crew, standing motionless with their arms folded as if they were prisoners. The first man to discover Enoch was O'Brien, who, with his coat and hat off, was busily engaged with the others in unloading the sloop.
"Here you are," said he. "Go up there and take the place of one of those men as guards of the prisoners, while the man you relieve comes here and helps throw off this lumber. You have got a gun. Is it loaded?"
"No, sir; but I can very soon put a load in," replied Enoch. "I will wager that it will stop any Tory inside of two hundred yards," he added, stepping up alongside of a man who stood there with a club in his hand. "How long has this thing been going on?"
"We have but just commenced," said the man. "When I came down here they were just bringing these men off as prisoners."
"Are we going to take the sloop and go out and capture that schooner?"
"That is the intention."
"Well, Mr. O'Brien told me to take your place here now, and you go and help unload that lumber. I have got a gun, and there's a bullet that will hit anything that tries to get away from me."
He held up the bullet so that all the sailors could see it, and then pushed it home. Then he took up his powder-horn and proceeded to "cap" his piece, which he did by pouring a lot of powder into the chamber. Then he brought down the slide, pushed his hat back and was ready for some prisoner to try to escape.
"You fellows are going to get licked as sure as the world," said one of the captives. "You can't take that schooner."
"What makes you think we are going to try?" asked Enoch.
"That is where you are going with that sloop. There will be some troops up here directly, and then you will all go in jail."
"Well, you won't have to go with us to keep us company," said Enoch, with a laugh.
"You are mighty right I won't," said the man, with something that savored of a threat in his tones. "I am on the side of England every day in the week. She will brush you rebels off on one side——"
"Hold on!" exclaimed Enoch, bringing his gun to a "ready." "You must not talk that way while I am about. When we come back we will be on board that schooner."
The man muttered something under his breath and then relapsed into silence; while Enoch turned his eyes toward the sloop to see how far they had progressed toward unloading her. The lumber was tumbled off any way, some going overboard into the bay and the rest being piled up helter-skelter on the wharf, and finally Zeke raised his voice and shouted—
"All you men who are going off with us to capture that schooner come on board here."
"Does that mean me?" asked Enoch.
"Yes, everybody. Come on."
"What shall we do with the prisoners?"
"Let them go where they please," answered Mr. O'Brien. "They can't hinder us."
"Now mark my words, sonny," said the man who had been talking to him a few moments before. "I haven't got anything against you, but I really wish you would not go off with that sloop. You are going to be killed, the last one of you."
"We will not be the first men who have fallen before British bullets," said Enoch, shouldering his gun and starting for the sloop. "Look at the ones the redcoats killed at Lexington. We are going to have revenge for that."
When Enoch got aboard the sloop he found O'Brien at the wheel and Zeke was ordering the lines hauled in. After that the mainsail and jib were hoisted—that was the only two sails she had—a shove was given at the bow while the stern-line held on, and as soon as the wind took the canvas she moved silently away from the wharf. She seemed to know that she was going on a dangerous mission, for not even her blocks creaked as the sailors pulled at the ropes.
"Well, Enoch, you are here, are you not?" exclaimed a voice at his elbow. "You have got your gun all handy, too."
"Yes, but where is yours, Zeke?" said the boy. "You haven't got anything."
"Yes, I have," said the man, pulling out his club from behind him. "If ever this falls on a Tory's head it is my opinion that he will see stars."
By this time the sloop was squared around with her bow pointed toward the sea and, contrary to the expectation of her company, she took a bone in her teeth and settled down to an exhibition of speed that surprised everybody. They were sure of one thing: The schooner must go faster than they had ever seen her go before in order to escape.
"But perhaps she won't depend on her speed," said Enoch, when somebody made use of this remark close at his elbow. "Perhaps she will stay and fight it out."
"I hope she will," was the reply; and the man showed a pitchfork which he had brought to assist in whipping the schooner's company. "If one of them gets a prod with this he will know what hurt him."
"Now I want all you men to gather here amidships where I can see you. I have something to say to you."
He spoke in a loud voice, and when Enoch turned to see who it was, he found Wheaton standing near the main-mast with his hat off. None of the men knew what there was pending, and one of them inquired, as he moved over to Wheaton's side—
"What's up?"
"I will tell you right away," said he. "Thus far in this business we have got along without a leader. We have agreed to everything that anybody had to propose, because we thought his proposition the best; but now we are coming to a point where we need a single mind to direct us. There is one man I have in mind who has done more to assist us in a quiet way than anybody else, and if you don't care I will propose him for our captain from this time on. I will nominate Mr. O'Brien. Those in favor of it will manifest it by saying 'Aye!'"
"Aye!" burst from a score of throats.
There was no need of calling for the nays on this question. As soon as Zeke heard the vote, he elbowed his way through the crowd and took off his hat and made a very low bow to his newly appointed commander. Then he laid his hand on the wheel, which O'Brien readily gave up to him.
When O'Brien gave up his wheel to Zeke he also took off his hat and moved a step or two nearer to his men. Then followed an outcry from the crew which anybody has heard who has been tempted to attend a political meeting in America, to-wit—
"Speech, speech!" chorused all hands!
"I have not much to say to you beyond this," said the captain. "We have come out here to capture that schooner, and we are not going back with that flag flying at her peak."
"Hear, hear!" shouted Zeb Short.
"We haven't got any guns, so we will run afoul of her and board her the first good chance we get," continued the captain. "If any man tells you that he surrenders—I never expect to hear any such cry from any man now before me—let him go and help him up and treat him as you would like to be treated if you were a prisoner. When we get aboard that boat, if none of her company pull down her flag, Wheaton is the man to attend to it. He proposed this thing, has suggested me for captain and he ought to have the privilege of handling the flag. That ensign has floated the 'mistress of the sea' and I don't believe that any body of men has ever pulled it down before. We will show them before we get through with them that it can't stand up before a 'flock of Yankees.'"
The cheers which greeted this little speech seemed to have raised the sloop fairly out of the water. When she came down again she settled to her work and went ahead faster than ever. By this time she had rounded the point of land behind which the schooner had run for safety the day before, but to the surprise of everybody her berth was empty. The schooner during the night had pulled out and chosen another place of refuge. It looked as though she had abandoned the sloops and left them to watch out for themselves.
"Well, Zeke, what do you think of this?" asked Captain O'Brien, seeking advice of his steersman. That was not exactly the proper thing to do, but this was a household matter, everybody in the village was bent on capturing the schooner, every man in his crew knew as much about handling a vessel as he knew himself, and he did not see why he shouldn't go for help where he was most likely to get it.
"They are afraid of us, Cap," replied Zeke. "There isn't any other place that I know of where she can run for refuge, except it is that little harbor about five miles up the bay. She may have gone in there."
"Why, she could not get in," replied the captain. "She draws too much water."
"She can go in there if the tide is up, and she will have to come out pretty soon or we will catch her, sure," said Zeke. "If I was you I would go up and take a look at that place."
The crew had by this time found out that the schooner's berth was empty, and they all crowded around their captain to see what he thought about it. Contrary to the custom in these days, the captain explained his movements when he brought the sloop about and headed her up the bay, and the men all agreed that that was the place to find her.
Up to this time Enoch had found so much else to occupy his mind that he had not thought to take notice of the crew, but he proceeded to do it now; and the conclusion he came to was that the schooner was never in so dangerous a position as she was at that moment. There were thirty of the company, as we have said, and upon the face of every one Enoch saw an expression of calmness, not unmixed with firmness, which showed that they were fully alive to a sense of the peril they were about to encounter. There were no signs of giving up. They had come out there with a purpose in view, and that purpose must be accomplished before they went back. Everybody expected, to quote from Caleb Young, that there would be mourning in Machias when they got through, but every one hoped thathewould get through. Remember that they had no discipline, they knew nothing of that 'shoulder to shoulder' drill which caused men to do their duty wherever they may be, but they simply went into it to let those men, who had been engaged at Lexington, see that they were not the only ones who believed in nipping British tyranny in the bud.
"I believe we are going to capture that schooner," said Enoch, moving aft till he could talk to the man at the wheel.
"Oh, you do, do you?" said Zeke, letting go of the wheel with one hand and pushing his hat on the back of his head. "Course we are. If you see anybody in this crew who dares to say that we ain't a-going to capture her, just take him by the scuff of the neck and drop him overboard. He ain't got any business to travel in this party."
When they had accomplished about two miles and a half of the distance they had to sail, an electric spark seemed to shoot through all the company when somebody descried the schooner coming out of that harbor and drawing a bee-line for sea. Captain Moore had not neglected to take particular pains to insure the safety of his vessel. The tops of her masts were higher than the surrounding headlands, and the first thing he did when he came to an anchor there, was to send a man up to the mast-head to act as lookout. He saw the sloop when she was coming out of the harbor of Machias, and forthwith informed the deck; whereupon an officer ascended to his side, and with a glass distinctly made out the company of hostile men on board of her, and he could even see the guns and pitchforks with which they were armed. Captain Moore instantly saw that he must not be caught in that narrow harbor, for if he was, his capture was certain. He must slip his anchor and get to sea; and the sloop's company saw her when she was two miles and a half away. A cheer long and loud greeted her appearance, and Zeke, who had been crowding the sloop all along so that a man standing in her lee rail could have dipped up a cup of water at any time, strove, if possible, to crowd her still more. The sloop responded nobly, and seemed to have reserved some of her speed for just this occasion, for she went ahead faster than ever.
"I tell you, boy, it is coming now," said Zeke, and for fear that his hat might bother him he took it off and pitched it overboard. "We will soon see how much pluck they have got."
To Enoch, had the contest been a friendly one, it would have been worth going miles to see the race between those two vessels. It seemed strange, too, for an armed boat to run away from a vessel that had nothing bigger than a flint-lock aboard of her, but the thought of what was in store for them should they succeed in coming up with the schooner brought many an anxious face. But there was no sign of backing out. The men having had their cheer out began stripping themselves, and in a little while Enoch could see nothing but sailors with a pair of overalls on. Everything else had been discarded, and the men lay along the rail and waited for Zeke to lay her alongside.
"I just wish we had another sail," said Captain O'Brien, closely watching the distance between the two vessels. "I am afraid she is going to get away from us, but I will follow her clear to England before I will give her up."
"No need of doing that," said Zeke, crowding the sloop until a wave came in over the starboard bow. "She is gaining a little—a little, to be sure, but you will be aboard of her in less than two hours."
For an hour the schooner and sloop remained about the same, one trying her best to escape, and the other striving by every means in her power to lessen the distance between the two. Captain O'Brien kept a close lookout with his glass, and finally uttered an exclamation indicative of surprise and joy.
"Captain Moore knows that the jig is nearly up," said he, passing his glass to one of his men. "He is going to cut away his boats."
Another cheer broke out from the men who heard this, but they kept watch of the schooner, and very shortly saw, one of her boats fall into the sea. Another and another followed it, until four boats, which were just so much dead weight on the schooner, were following in her wake behind her. Up to this time the sloop had gained half a mile, but before she had gained a mile, Captain O'Brien, who had the glass again, told his men something else.
"They are going to shoot," said he. "All you men forward lie down."
This was what the captain was afraid of. The schooner could bring one gun to bear upon her, and if she kept up the shooting long enough, she might hit the sloop's mast and that would end the chase in a hurry. But the schooner did not shoot right away. She wanted to be sure that her pursuer was in good range before she expended a shot upon her, and so beyond training the gun the crew stood about awaiting the order from the captain to fire.
"He is going to make sure work of us when he does shoot," remarked Zeke, as he looked up at the sails to see that they were kept full. "I wish he would go a little bit faster—Hal—lo! That's in our favor."
While Zeke was talking there came a sudden gust of wind, stronger than any that had preceded it, and the schooner's main-topsail went by the board. Of course that did away with two sails, the main gaff-topsail and the main trysail, and her speed was lessened materially. The sloop began to gain at once, and while a portion of the schooner's crew went aloft to clear away the wreck, the rest gathered about the gun and seemed disposed to risk a shot at the sloop.
"Lie down forward!" said Captain O'Brien, sharply. "You don't obey orders any better than a merchantman's crew. Some of you will have your heads blown off directly."
Some of the company obeyed and some did not; but the moment there was a puff of smoke from the schooner's stern they laid themselves out flat on deck.
"It is no use telling us to lie down for such shooting as that," said one of the crew, raising himself on his knees and looking aft to see where the shell exploded. "I would stand in front of a barn door and let them shoot at me all day."
"They have not got the range yet," said Captain O'Brien. "And besides they want to scare us."
"There is some men in this party who don't scare," replied Zeke, trying to crowd his vessel a little more.
"I know that. I should be sorry to think that any of us would scare; but they will get the range pretty soon, and you will see blood on this deck."
Shot after shot continued to pour upon the sloop from the stern gun of the schooner, and every one exploded nearer her than the preceding one. Finally a shot passed through her mainsail, leaving a big rent behind it, and before the crew had fairly comprehended it, another came, passed through the port rail and exploded just as it got on deck. What a moment that was for Enoch! He lay right where he could see the effect of the shell, and two of the men jumped to their feet, gasped for a moment or two and then fell prostrate back again, and one other man set up a shriek.
"I have got it, boys, and we have not got a doctor aboard," said he, in a voice that sounded as though there were tears behind it. "Now what am I going to do?"
"Hold your jaw for one thing," said another, sitting up and beginning to pull up his overalls. "Do you think there is no body hurt but yourself? Look at that."
This man was much more to be pitied than the other one, for a piece of shell had cut his calf entirely away; while the one that made so much fuss about it had simply a crease on the top of his head. The second one made all haste to get below, while the other accepted some pieces of the shirt which Captain O'Brien speedily took off for him and coolly proceeded to tie up his wound.
"Say, Cap, I can stop that fellow shooting that gun," said one of the crew. "I can take his head off easy enough."
"Take it off then," said the captain.
All became silent expectation as the sailor crept up to a convenient place behind the bulwarks, rested his long flint-lock over it and drew a bead on several men who were working about the gun on the schooner's deck. One man was engaged in swabbing out the gun. He had run the swab in, took it out and was rapping it on the edge of a bucket to get off any particles of fire that might adhere to it, when the flint-lock spoke. The man stood for an instant as if overcome with astonishment, then dropped his swab, threw his arms over his head and sank out of sight.
"I did it, Cap, didn't I?" shouted the sailor, who, like all the rest, was surprised at the accuracy of his discharge.
Enoch was greatly excited at the outcome of this shot, so much so that he got upon his feet. He told himself that if one flint-lock would strike a man at that distance another might do it, too, and when the man fell he ran forward and knelt beside the sailor who had performed such a wonderful exploit.
"Ah! you have come with an old flint-lock, have you?" said the sharpshooter as Enoch knelt beside him. "Do you think you can hit one of those Britishers working about that gun? Now look here: Sight your gun right there," he continued, making a mark with his thumb nail across the barrel. "Of course if they were in any reasonable distance that would throw the ball away over their heads; but we don't want to kill them so much as we want to scare them. Now try it at that."
Enoch drew up his flint-lock and one to have seen him would have thought that he meant to shoot at the cross-trees. Just then a Britisher ran forward with a cartridge in his hand to insert in the gun, but Enoch was waiting for him. The flint-lock roared, and the man stopped, dropped his cartridge to the deck and hurried aft holding his right hand as if he were very tender of it. The old sailor had made his sights just right.
"That's the way to do it," he exclaimed, stopping in his progress of driving a ball home long enough to pat Enoch on the head. "Throw the balls about their ears. That will frighten them even if it does not hurt them, and what we want is to keep them from firing that gun. Now let me see if I will have as good luck as I did before."
"That is to pay him for capturing Caleb," said Enoch. "I wish I knew where he is now. I don't want to send my bullets into the hull for fear that I will hit him."
The sailor tried it again and with just as good fortune as he had the previous time. Another Britisher caught up the cartridge and was going to put it into the gun, but he also dropped it and lay on the deck where he had stood. By this time all the sloop's men who had guns were congregated in the bow, and before they had all fired one round the gun was deserted.
"I knew we would put a stop to that," said the man who had fired the first shot. "Hold her to it, Zeke. We are gaining on her."
But Captain Moore was not yet whipped. He had three guns on a broadside which had not yet come into play, and all of a sudden his sails were let out and the schooner veered around to bring them into action. Before he had got fairly into position three flint-locks roared and two men dropped, one dead and the other seriously wounded. But the captain took up the position he wanted all the same, and the order to fire came distinctly to Enoch's ears. He thought he had never heard such a roar before as those little guns made when they were turned loose on the sloop. He thought his time had come, and held his breath expecting every instant to be his last. But the shells all flew wild. Not one of them came near the sloop. The provincials straightened up and fired three more bullets at the men who worked the guns, but the schooner was so obscured by the smoke of her cannons that they could not see what havoc they had made.
During this maneuver on the part of the pursued, the sloop had gained amazingly, and now they were within earshot of the Britishers. Thinking to avoid the further effusion of blood by prolonging the fighting Captain O'Brien called out—
"Do you surrender?"
"No!" returned Captain Moore's voice. "We will surrender when the last plank goes down."
And Captain Moore showed that he was in earnest. Almost with the words he lighted a hand-grenade which he carried in his arms, and threw it toward O'Brien. It did not come half way to the sloop but it exploded with stunning force and gave the provincials some idea of what was in store for them.
"Bring us alongside, Zeke," exclaimed Captain O'Brien, so impatient that he could not stand still. "If you can not manage her let somebody else go to the wheel."
"Bussin' on it, captain, I am doing the best I can," replied Zeke, working the wheel back and forth as if he hoped in that way to get some more speed out of her. "She will be alongside in five minutes."
But those five minutes were a long time to wait. The flint-locks were in close range now, and every time one of them spoke some body on the Britisher's side went down. It did not seem as though they had men enough to stand such a fusilade. Captain O'Brien was standing there with a rope in his hand, and when he had got it all coiled up he stepped over and took his place among the men who had flint-locks in their hands.
"Now, boys, protect me," said he. "Whenever our boat comes near enough I am going to catch the schooner and lash them fast. Enoch, go back and pick off the man at the wheel."
The boy started at once and without making any reply. He kept along close under the rail to be out of range of any one who was watching him from the schooner's deck, and when he came within sight of Zeke he was horrified to find him with his face all covered with blood.
"Oh Zeke, they have hit you," exclaimed Enoch.
"Don't I know that?" replied the wheelman, who stuck to his work as though there was nothing the matter with him. "But as long as they do not get me down I am going to stand up. Do you see that man alongside the schooner's wheel? Well he is the one that shot me."
Enoch took just one glance at the schooner and saw that the man referred to had just loaded his pistol and was now engaged in priming it. He cast frequent glances toward Zeke and grinned at him the while as if to tell him that his second shot would go to the mark; but he did not take notice of Enoch who, kneeling down behind the rail, brought his gun to bear on him. It spoke almost immediately, and the man dropped his pistol, turned part way around and sank down lifeless where he stood.
"There!" exclaimed Zeke. "That was a good shot. Now see if you can get that man at the wheel. That will leave her without any guiding hand, and before she can bring another man to helm I may be able to come up with her."
"I was sent here for that purpose," said Enoch, rolling over on his back and reaching for his powder-horn. "I am going to pick off every man they send there."
In a few minutes the gun was ready, after trying in vain to retain his hold of the spokes, the steersman went down in a heap. Of course the schooner came into the wind, and Zeke uttered a yell as she veered round broadside to the sloop; and in a moment more there was a rush of men from the deck and Enoch and Zeke were standing alone.
"Boarders away!" shouted Captain O'Brien, as he made the two vessels fast together. "Now, boys, show what you're are made of."
Zeke released his hold of the wheel, and caught up his club which stood beside him where he could get his hands upon it at a moment's warning; he cleared the rails of the vessels without using his hands, and Enoch lost sight of him in the fracas. Somehow, Enoch could not have told how it happened, he was close at his heels when he reached the schooner's deck, and between using his gun as a club to fell a man to the deck and making use of it as a parry to ward off a blow that somebody aimed at his head, he did not know anything more until he heard a voice exclaim in piteous accents:
"I surrender! I surrender!"
"Who is that?" shouted Captain O'Brien. "Do you all surrender? If you do, throw down your weapons."
There was a sound of dropping hand-spikes and cutlasses, and in an instant there was silence on the deck. The smoke of the hand-grenades with which the boarders had been greeted floated away after a while, and then the provincials were able to see what they had done and how great was the number of men that they had to mourn. Enoch was astounded. It did not seem possible for him to step in any direction without treading upon the body of friend or foe. The two bodies of men opposed to each other were about thirty on a side, and at least half that number were lying on the deck dead, or wounded so badly that they could not get up. He looked everywhere for Captain Moore, and finally found him with a saber-cut in his side. His first action had proved his death.
"Now the next thing is Caleb," said Enoch, starting toward the gangway to go below. "I hope that nothing has happened to him."
Enoch did not want to go on talking to himself in this way, for something told him that he might find his friend Caleb cold in death. He knew where the brig was and hurried down to it, and on the way he found half a dozen men who were wounded and the doctor and his assistant attending to their wants. It was a horrible sight, and Enoch turned away his head that he might not see it. A few steps brought him to the brig, and there was a hand stuck out to grasp his own. It was Caleb sure enough, and no signs of a wound on him. He was as jolly and full of fun as ever.
"Enoch, old boy, I knew you would not rest easy until you had got me," said Caleb. "Put it there."
"Are you not hurt a bit?" asked Enoch. He almost dreaded to ask the question for some how he seemed to think that no living boy could come out of that fight without being desperately wounded. Enoch did not stop to think of himself. He appeared to know that he was going to come out all right.
"Open the door and let me out," repeated Caleb, taking hold of the grating in front of him and shaking it with all his strength. "I have been in here long enough."
"Who has got the key?" asked Enoch. "If I can't find the key I shall have to chop the grating down."
"Do you know the boatswain?"
Enoch shook his head.
"Well, he is the one that has the key, and you will have to find him in order to get it. Say!" said Caleb, seizing his friend by the arm and pulling him up close to him. "I ought to 'start' that fellow. He was going to be awful mean to me if we had started for New York. Why don't you go and get the key?"
Enoch went but he did not know where he was going to find the boatswain. At the head of the gangway he met a Britisher coming down with his arm in a sling, and he asked him if he could show the man to him.
"Yes, I can," said the sailor. "He has gone to Davy's locker sure. I'll bet he won't start me any more. Come on and I will show him to you."
Enoch followed him to the deck and there, where the British had gathered to meet the boarders from the sloop and but a little way from his captain, lay the boatswain with an ugly thrust from a cutlass near his heart. By feeling of his pockets on the outside Enoch soon discovered his bunch of keys, and he soon had possession of them.
"You will not get a chance at that boatswain on this trip," said Enoch, as he proceeded to open the door. "He has gone where he can't hurt you nor anybody else by 'starting' him. He is killed."
He opened the door and Caleb fairly jumped into his arms. After they had embraced each other for a minute or two Caleb asked after his mother.
"Of course she felt very bad to know that you had been taken prisoner, but she did not cry," said Enoch. "I told her that when I came back to-night I should fetch you with me, and I am going to keep my promise."
"Let us go on deck and see how things look up there," said Caleb. "You had a lively time taking this boat. I never heard such a roar as these guns made."
If Caleb, when he was down below, thought things were lively, what must he have thought when he came out of the gangway and saw the number of men that had been killed and wounded during the fight! Almost the first man he saw was Captain Moore.
"How many men did you have on each side?" he asked in astonishment. "Did you shoot that old flint-lock of yours?"
"I did, but I shot to maim, not to kill. I couldn't do it. No doubt they would have used me worse than we will them, but you see they did not get the chance. There's Wheaton pulling down the flag. Let us go up and hear what he has to say."
The flag was already down and Wheaton was folding it up tenderly to carry it under his arm. Probably if it had been an American flag and the victory had been the other way, there would not have been so much attention shown it by the Britishers who pulled it down. Wheaton shook Caleb by the hand, asked him how he had fared as a prisoner in the power of the enemies of his country and said as he gathered up the flag—
"Captain O'Brien says that this is the first time this flag has ever been hauled down by a foe to England. She has made everybody strike to her, butshehas struck to nobody. It would not have been pulled down now if she had treated us right. She will find before she gets through with it that a little flock of Yankees, to which her troops came so near to surrendering at Lexington, are as good as they make them. We have met them, man for man, and whipped them all."
"There, sir," said Captain O'Brien, drawing a long breath of relief and patting with his hand the British flag which Wheaton carried under his arm, "the Yankees have done the work. But there will be mourning when we get back to Machias. Who would have thought that those Britishers would have fought so desperately."
"Captain, they had guns, you know, and we had nothing heavier than flint-locks. Who would have thought that our men would have fought so desperately to accomplish an object? I tell you that each man deserves three hearty cheers to pay him for what he has done."
The fight was over, but now the dead and wounded had to be taken care of. After a short consultation with Wheaton and Zeke the captain decided that all the wounded men should be taken on board the schooner where there was a doctor and his assistant to take care of them, and all the prisoners were to go on board the sloop.
"You will have to stay aboard here with me and let the doctor look after your wound, Zeke," said the captain. "It is bleeding fearfully."
"Bussin' on it, I won't do it," said Zeke, earnestly. "As soon as I get some water to wash this blood off I will be all right. I stood at the helm of that sloop when she overhauled the schooner, and I am going to stand at her wheel when she goes into the harbor. That's a word with a bark on it."
Zeke turned away to hunt up a bucket to aid him in washing out his wound. Zeb Short was there with a club in his hand, and it was covered with blood, too. He had been listening to the words that passed between the captain and Zeke, and was evidently waiting for a chance to put in a word for himself.
"Were you hit?" asked Wheaton.
"Nary time," said Zeb, and his words and actions showed that it would take a better man than was to be found in the schooner's company to lay him up with a wound. "I don't believe in fighting, and for saying them words Zeke came pretty near punching me; but when you are in for it, why, you have got to do the best you can. How many men will you want to guard the sloop on the way in?"
"Let all the men who have flint-locks go aboard of her," answered the captain, "and let them stay around the wheel with Zeke. But first you must put all the unwounded prisoners in irons. Do you know where to find them?"
Zeb knew and dove down the hatchway out of sight. When he came back he had but six pairs of irons in his hand—"not enough to go all the way round," as he said. The prisoners who were still in a group on the forecastle, were ordered aft, and obediently held out their hands for the irons. Enoch and Caleb were close by watching the operation, and when the latter came to run his eye over the men he found that there was one of whom he had promised himself that he would say a good word if chance ever threw it in his way. It was the man who had given him the only bite to eat while he was in the brig.
"There is one fellow that must not be put in irons if I can help it," said he, making his way toward the captain. "He belongs on our side of the house and I know it."
Captain O'Brien listened with an amused expression on his face while Caleb told his story, and presently beckoned to the man to come over to where he was.
"What business have you got to serve under the British flag?" said Captain O'Brien.
"I haven't got any business at all, sir," said the sailor. "I shipped on board of that schooner because I wanted something to do. I belong on the Hudson River a little ways from New York."
"You are sure your sympathies are not with her?"
"No, sir. When I saw that flag come down it was all I could do to keep from cheering."
"Well, you don't want any irons on you. Stand up here beside me and you will be safe."
Caleb and Enoch were overjoyed to hear this decision on the part of their captain. When the sailor drew up a little behind O'Brien the boys tipped him a wink to let him know that he was among friends. Giving Caleb that mouthful of food was the best thing he ever did.
When the prisoners had been ironed they were ordered aboard the sloop and into the captain's cabin, where it was known they would be safe. To make assurance doubly sure Enoch was stationed at the head of the companion-way with his flint-lock for company, and Caleb stayed with him. The wounded were then transferred on board the schooner, and her new crew, without waiting orders to that effect, seized buckets and brooms and went to work to clear the deck of the battle-stains. Of course Caleb was anxious to know what had passed in the village during his absence, and his friend took this opportunity to enlighten him.
"I knew in a minute as soon as I found that tin bucket of yours all jammed in, that you had been captured and taken aboard the schooner," said Enoch. "Zeke knew it too, for I went and got him as soon as I missed you."
"Did you know that I was going off to New York?" asked Caleb.
"Well, we suspected as much, but we was not sure of it until James Howard told me of it. I wonder if there is not some way by which we can get even with that fellow."
"We will keep an eye on him when we get back," said Caleb, who somehow grew angry every time James' name was mentioned in his hearing. "If he conducts himself as any other boy would, we can't do anything with him. They will think right away that we are down on him and anxious to be revenged; but if he goes to cutting up those shines of his, why, then, it will put a different look on the case."
"Are you all ready, Zeke?" shouted Captain O'Brien, as he cast off the rope with which the vessels were lashed together.
"All ready, Cap," replied Zeke, hurrying aft and placing his hand upon the wheel.
"Then fill away in my wake. Zeb, go to the wheel. I am going as straight into Machias as I can go."
"I won't be far behind you. Fill away as soon as you please."
The two little vessels were pushed apart, the wind gradually filled their sails and they got under way for the harbor. Things looked different to Enoch from what they did when he came out. Six of his men, whom he had shaken by the hand every day, were dead, and nine were so badly hurt that he did not know whether or not he was ever going to see them again. He always thought that war was terrible, but now he was sure of it. But there was one thing about it: He had helped save his friend and if he had got hurt himself he would not have said a word. Every once in a while he let go of his gun with one hand and placed his arm around Caleb's neck as if he never meant to let him go again.
"Say, Caleb, you don't seem to have much to do but just to stay here and keep Enoch company," said Wheaton, who had been appointed commander of the sloop. "I wish you would take a small rope with you and go up and see if there is a block in that topmast. I am going to hoist this flag there, and then our friends on shore can see how we come out."
"Where's the rope?" said Caleb.
The rope was passed to him and Caleb made it fast to one of his arms. Then he settled his hat firmly on his head, went to the ratlines and in a few moments more was at the cross-trees. From this upward he had no ropes to assist him in climbing—nothing but twelve feet of a slippery topmast to which he had to cling in much the same manner that a boy would in climbing a tree. But this was no bar to Caleb; he had been sent on such expeditions before.
"On deck, there!" he shouted, when he had got up and placed his hand on the mast-head. "There is a block here but no rope."
"All right," shouted Wheaton in return. "Reeve that rope through that you have got with you and bring it down here."
To untie the rope from his arm, pass it through the block, twist it securely about his hand and go down to the deck with it was easily done. Then Wheaton began to fasten the flag to it, and presently it began to go aloft.
"I wish there was a union on it so that we could hoist it union down," said Wheaton. "But it is nothing but a union jack. Whichever way you hoist it, it is right side up."
"Some of the people have glasses ashore and they can soon see the flag, and they will notice that it is not on board the schooner but on board the sloop," said Enoch. "That will show them that the vessels have changed hands since we have been inside."
"But I cannot get over the sorrow that will be occasioned among some of the people when they come to hear how many men it took to make that change," said Wheaton, who acted very different from what he did when they went out. "I knew the Britishers would fight, but somehow I did not think they would fight so hard."
"I knew they would," said Caleb. "If you had been on board that schooner you would have fought till you dropped before you would have given up."
A loud cheer coming from the schooner's company interrupted their conversation, and the three turned to see what was the occasion of it. They were just entering the harbor. Captain O'Brien had taken his stand upon the windward rail so that he could have a fair view of the shore, and was waving his hat to the people on the wharf. The boys had no idea that there was so great a number of folks in Machias as they saw at that moment. They stood there, eager to find out which side had whipped, but they dared not make a demonstration for fear that they might be cheering the wrong persons. Even the schooner's flag at the mast-head of the sloop did not fully remove their suspicions. They had heard the firing, the sloop was badly cut up by the shells that had been rained upon her, and they thought they would let the vessels come a little nearer before they said anything.
"You need not tell me anything about it," said James Howard, who had come down there to hear all about the schooner's victory. "That sloop had no cannon, and how could she be supposed to go into a fight with an armed vessel? It is a great wonder to me that she did not sink the sloop when she was in pursuit of her."
"She may have run away from the sloop," said Emerson Miller. "The schooner did not want to fight, for she knows that war hasn't been declared yet. You let Captain Moore alone for keeping out of trouble."
"Say!" whispered James, as with a pale face he passed his glass over to his companion. "Just look at that man standing up there on the windward rail. If that was Captain Moore he would have his uniform on, would he not?"
Emerson took the glass, and as he looked the expectant expression went out of his face and it became as pale as death itself. The man standing up there was Captain O'Brien, and as he watched him he took off his hat and waved it over his head.
"James, we are whipped!" he whispered. "That man is not Captain Moore."
"That is just what I was afraid of. Let us go home."
Emerson did not need any urging, but when James left the wharf he kept him close company. They had made but a few steps when a cheer came from the schooner, and James, glancing toward the boat, saw that that man was still standing there and swinging his hat violently around his head. Not satisfied with this, a cheer arose from the sloop, and there was a man standing on her windward rail who, at that distance, looked exactly like Wheaton.
"We are whipped," repeated Emerson. "Now who in the world can account for that?" James did not say anything, for he was so nearly overwhelmed that he could not get his wits together. He hardly knew when he opened the gate and ascended the stairs to the porch.
Meanwhile the little vessels came gaily on. The people now were satisfied while heretofore they had been lost in doubt, and the cheers that went up were long and loud. The vessels were handled by sailormen,—Zeke took command of the sloop when she approached the wharf—and they rounded to and came up with a force that would not have broken an egg-shell. Parties on shore caught the lines for them, and shortly the gang-planks were pushed out so that the people could come on board. And such a rush as there was! Caleb and Enoch wanted to get ashore to see their mothers, but for a time there was no chance for them. Zeke came up in the meantime, smiling and good-natured as usual, and the boys were about to tell him to go ahead and they would follow in his wake, when they saw him reach out his arm and stop a man who was just coming aboard. It was the storekeeper who had acted so mean about giving Enoch his powder a few nights ago.
"Say, hold on, friend," said Zeke, reaching out his hand and laying a grip on the storekeeper's collar. "We don't want any men like you aboard here. That's the way ashore."
"Who made you master of this vessel?" answered the man, thrusting Zeke's arm aside. "The captain says the wounded men are on board this ship and I want to see who they are. Just keep your hands to yourself."
Zeke's whole appearance changed as if by magic. The good-natured smile gave place to a frown, and the hand which the storekeeper had thrown aside speedily caught its grip again, and this time it was there to stay. With the other hand he caught the man below the waist-band, and a moment afterward he gave a puff like a tired locomotive and the storekeeper was swung clear of the deck. Lifting his victim until he was at arm's length above his head he walked across the deck to the other side, and sent him headlong into the water. It was an exhibition of strength on Zeke's part that no one had ever seen before. He leaned over the rail until the man's face appeared at the surface and then shook his fist at him.
"Now don't you wish you had gone back my way?" said he. "Swim around the sloop and get somebody to help you out. You can't come aboard here."
"There," said Enoch. "Ledyard is a Tory sure enough. Zeke knew it all the time and took this way to wash some of his meanness out of him. I will have to go to his store to get some more powder," he added, holding up his horn so that he could see the inside of it. "I shot most of what I had away at the Britishers who manned this schooner. Come on, Caleb. I think we can get ashore now."
The boys made another attempt this time and were successful. Every one they saw on the wharf was a provincial and wanted to shake hands with them. Of course, too, everybody wanted to know what sort of treatment Caleb had met with at the hands of the Britishers, but the boys answered in as few words as possible and as soon as they were out of the crowd they broke into a run, headed for home.
"Come in and let mother thank you for rescuing me," said Caleb, as they stopped at his gate. "She can do it better than I can."
"I did not have more to do with your rescue than a dozen other men who were with me," replied Enoch. "Let me go home first and then I will come back."
Caleb reluctantly let his friend go, and Enoch kept on his way toward home. He was thinking over the incidents that had happened during the fight and which he wanted to tell for his mother's satisfaction, when he came opposite the house in which James Howard lived. He kept on without giving a thought to James except to wonder how he would feel to know that the schooner, in which he had so much confidence, had been beaten by an unarmed sloop, when he saw the boy at the gate waiting for him. His face was very pale, but it gave place to a flush of anger when he noticed the smile with which Enoch greeted him. He backed away from the gate as our hero approached, and this showed that he did not mean to let himself get within reach of a provincial's arm.
"You think you are smart, don't you?" was the way in which he opened the conversation.
"Well—yes; almost anybody would think himself smart under the circumstances," said Enoch. "We whipped them in a fair fight."
"I do not believe it," returned James hotly.
"I do not ask you to take my word for it, but the wharf is not but a little way off, and you can go down and see for yourself," said Enoch.
"We heard the firing, and we came to the conclusion that your sloop had got sunk out of sight," said James. "But I see that the schooner brought her back with her."
Enoch made no reply. He wanted to see how much James knew about the fight.
"How many of the men were killed and wounded on your side?" continued James, after a moment's pause.
"About half."
"I tell you the regulars fought, did they not? How many of them were hit on their side?"
"About half."
"Do you mean to say that you killed as many of them as they did of you?" asked James, who was plainly astonished to hear it.
"That is what I mean to say. We boarded their vessel and pulled down her flag——"
"I tell you I don't believe any such stuff," shouted James, who was more surprised the longer the story went on. "You will never get your hands on that flag."
"Go down and see. That is all you have got to do."
"I will wager that Captain Moore laid some of you fellows out. Was that he standing on the rail waving his hat to us?"
"No, it could not have been Captain Moore. He is dead."
"What!" James almost stammered. "Did one of you men dare to draw a weapon on him?"
"Yes, they did. He had weapons in his own hand——"
"Of course he did. He was defending his vessel."
"And we wanted to take it and we were stronger than he was."
"If some of you don't get your necks stretched before long I shall miss my guess," said James, walking up and down the path like a boy who had been bereft of his senses. "You have committed piracy, every one of you."
"And you would be the first to grab a rope and haul us up, I suppose? Look here, James, Caleb has got back now——"
"Oh! Did you find him and turn him loose? Then he will not have to go to New York to pay his fine?"
"Not by a long shot. I found him locked in the brig and let him out."
This news was more than James could stand. He pulled off his hat, dug his fingers into his head and acted altogether like a boy who was almost ready to go insane.
"And if you are wise you and Emerson Miller will stay close about the house," said Enoch, shifting his rifle to his other shoulder. "The first time he catches you on the street he will have his pay for that. So you want to watch out."
Enoch walked on toward his home and James went into the house so bewildered that he hardly knew which end he stood on. He found his father in the dining-room, pacing up and down the floor with his hands behind his back, but that terrible scowl that had come to his face when he first heard that James had been whipped by a rebel, was not there. His face was pale and his hands trembled.
"Father," whispered James, as though he hardly knew how to communicate to him the news he had just heard, "the dog is dead. Captain Moore has been killed and the rebels have taken the schooner."
His father fairly gasped for breath. He raised his hands above his head as if to say that he did not want to hear any more, and then groped his way to a lounge and sank down upon it.
"I have just seen Enoch out there and he told me all about it," continued James. "The firing that we heard did not hurt the sloop at all. And the worst of it is, Caleb has been turned loose and now I have got to stay about the house."
"Oh Lord! Oh Lord!" groaned Mr. Howard.
"Now have I got to stand that?" said James in a resolute tone. He was always brave enough when he was in his own house and a perfect coward when he got out of it. Perhaps his father could think of some other way to get rid of Caleb and of Enoch, too.
"Am I, a good, loyal friend of the King, and ready to go into a fight for him this minute, to be shut up in the house just because I say that those men, every one of them, had ought to have their necks stretched to pay them for what they have done?" continued James. "There must be some way in which we can get the start of those rebels."
"I don't really see what you can do," said Mr. Howard. "The rebels are stronger than we are, and I guess both of us will have to stay in the house from this time on. Such a thing was never heard of before. Thirteen little colonies getting up a rebellion in the face of the King!"
"But there must be some way out of it?"
"Of course there is. Let the King send over an army to whip the rebels into submission. But before that thing can happen they may work their sweet will of us. I don't know any better way that we can do but to pack up and go to New York."
"And leave this beautiful place to the rebels?" exclaimed James. "I tell you I should hate to do that."
"I don't know what else we can do. We shall be among friends there, and can say what we think without some paltry little rebel telling us that we had better keep our mouths shut. But go away and leave me alone for a while, James. The news you have brought to me almost drives me crazy. Do youknowthat Captain Moore has been killed?"
"All I know about it is what Enoch told me. He said that the captain had weapons in his hand, but that the attacking party was too strong for him. He was the best man that ever lived, too, and I tell you it would give me joy to have hold of one end of a rope while the other was fast around the necks of those people."
"Be careful that you don't say that where anybody can hear it," said his father. "The rebels are in high feather now that they have got a victory, and they would be right on hand for something desperate."
Mr. Howard settled himself into a comfortable position on the lounge and James, taking this as a hint that his presence was no longer desirable, picked up his cap and walked out on the porch.
"I wish I dared go down to the wharf," said he. "But if I do that Caleb Young will be out, and there's no telling what he will do to me. I wish somebody would come along and give me some news of that fight."
But James waited a long time before he got it. Enoch and Caleb were at home and holding their mothers spellbound with the various incidents that transpired before their sight, while James walked up and down the porch feeling as though he did not have a friend in the world. He looked in vain for Emerson Miller, but that worthy, who probably knew or suspected that Caleb Young had been found and released by this time, was not at all anxious to be seen in James's company and wisely kept his distance.
"Well, mother, I have got back and there is not a mark on me," shouted Enoch, as he burst open the kitchen door and sprang into the presence of her who told him that she did not want him to get his gun into any bad habits. "I shot away all my powder and lead, and I guess that some of the Tories that I aimed at have something to remember me by. Why don't you say that you are glad to see me?"
"How about Caleb?" said his mother. "Is he all right?"
"I did not ask him, but I don't think he heard a bullet while he was in the brig."
His mother had been knitting when he came in, and the Book lay in front of her, open, on her knee. She put the Book and her knitting away and got up, and folded Enoch to her breast. She made no remark, but the boy was satisfied from the strength of her embrace that she was glad to welcome him home. Enoch then sat down and told her everything connected with the fight, not forgetting how Zeke had ducked the storekeeper in the harbor.
"I never saw such an exhibition of strength in my life," said he, with enthusiasm. "He took the man this way"—here he got up and elevated his arms straight above his head—"walked across the boat with him and chucked him into the water. He would not let him come back aboard the sloop either, but told him to swim around and get somebody to help him out. I wish all the men we have were like Zeke."
Of course there were many questions to be asked and answered on both sides—Mrs. Crosby was anxious to learn how the different men with whom she was acquainted had behaved during the fight, and Enoch was equally desirous to know how the Tories they had left behind them conducted themselves while they were at sea—and it was almost dark before they had got through talking.
"I was particularly anxious to know what the Tories would do when they heard that firing," said Enoch. "I was afraid they would be excited and do something that we would have to settle with them for."
"Well, they did not," said Mrs. Crosby. "James and Emerson walked up and down in front of our house when they heard the shooting going on, and asked us to listen to it. 'Aha!' they said. 'The rebels are getting their fill now. After Captain Moore sinks that sloop he will have all he can do to pick up the dead and wounded ones.' It seems to me that they must be utterly confounded by the victory of the sloop over an armed vessel."
"Not only that, but they utterly refused to believe it," said Enoch.