CHAPTER XIX.
BOB, THE POWDER-MONKEY.
"Their flag is but a rag, Ours is the true one; Up with the Stars and Stripes! Down with the old one!"
Tempest tore himself away from the side of Bertha and leaped on deck.
He saw a sloop of war, flying the English ensign, between the_Caroline_ and the shore.
Quickly exchanging signals with the _Lively Bee_, a course of actionwas agreed upon.
They must put out to sea.
The flight was attended with danger, for they might fall in with largerwar ships; the only chance they had was to escape in the darkness ofnight.
"Stand by to get under way!" shouted John Tempest. "The wind is rising,and methinks the _Caroline_ can show her heels as well as the _LivelyBee_."
The order was obeyed with alacrity, for the men loved a fight, eventhough the odds were against them, and they believed ere morning dawnedthey would smell powder.
The breeze ruffled the surface of the water around the _Caroline_,breaking into myriads of little waves, which leaped and danced andsparkled as the last rays of the sun fell upon the ocean.
The sloop-of-war had signaled the _Caroline_ and _Lively Bee_ to layto, but no notice was taken.
Then the Britisher fired a gun, and Tempest ordered the starry ensignto be dipped three times by way of salute.
It was galling to the Englishman, and our young Yankee intended itshould be.
The sails were spread to the breeze; the jib which extended along thebowsprit was hoisted, and the good ship _Caroline_, bending low beforethe wind, moved along with increasing velocity.
The sloop gained upon them.
"Set the gaff-topsails, and hoist away the spencer!" shouted Tempest,and the men answered with a ready obedience.
The spencer, with three small, triangular sails stretched from thetopmast, were now spread to the wind, giving additional speed to thevessel.
Straining through every joint, the _Caroline_ parted the green wavesbefore her, flinging the foam in feathery showers around her bows.
The sloop was gaining even then, and Tempest saw that they were in fora fight, unless darkness came on suddenly.
He heard his name called, and knew that Bertha was awake.
He hastened down the companionway.
"What was that report, John?" she asked.
"A gun was fired."
"At this ship?"
"No, it was a signal."
"What for?"
"Bertha, it is as well that you should know. We are putting out to sea."
"Then you deceived me?"
"No, Bertha; but a man-of-war is chasing us."
"And we shall all be killed."
"I hope not. We shall have to fight."
"Not with me on board?" she asked, with a little frightened scream.
"Seeing, my dear Bertha, that if you get off you will be drowned, I amafraid you will have to endure the annoyance."
"But why go out to sea? Have I not had enough sea?"
"My dear Bertha----"
"Don't dear Bertha me!" and the little beauty stamped her foot. "Youought to get to land as quickly as you can, and not fly into greaterdanger."
The heavy boom of a gun startled her.
"Take me back to America, won't you, Mr. Tempest?"
"I would like to; but there is some fighting before us, I am afraid."
He went on deck, not waiting to hear what new objection she wouldraise, or fresh obstacle interpose.
To his great joy he found that there was a likelihood of a very darknight, and neither British nor American would care about a nightengagement at sea.
"Shall we reply, sir?" asked Scarron.
"No; we cannot reach the sloop, and we cannot afford to waste powderand shot."
"I found twenty kegs of powder in the hold, sir."
"You did? That is great!"
"So I thought, sir, and there are more shots than powder on the _LivelyBee_, and we have a lot of nails on board."
"I see; if you get at close quarters you would fire nails?"
"Why not, sir? They would kill a man just as well as lead."
"You are right, but I don't want to fight at all if I can help it."
"I understand, sir. I guess we shan't do much until morning."
"Have everything in readiness."
"Yes, sir."
The darkness increased so rapidly that it was impossible to do anyeffective fighting, and as the _Lively Bee_ and _Caroline_ would haveto contend against a well-equipped man-of-war, it seemed the height ofimprudence to attempt a surprise.
A boat was lowered from the _Caroline_, but no sooner did it strike thewater than a gun was fired from the English vessel.
This was warning so significant that the boat did not proceed on itstrip, and yet Tempest wanted to communicate with the _Lively Bee_.
"I tell you, sir, only a good swimmer could reach the privateersafely," said Scarron.
"But who could swim that distance?" asked Tempest.
"There is Bob, the powder-monkey."
"Do you think----"
"That he would go? Why, sir, Bob would let his head be used as a rammerfor a cannon if he thought he could serve the Republic."
"Send him to me."
"Ay, ay, sir."
A few minutes and a boy some fifteen years of age stood beforeLieutenant Tempest.
"Bob, are you a good swimmer?" asked the officer.
Bob's face lighted up with a smile, a smile which quickly developedinto a grin, which threatened to extend from ear to ear.
He did not answer, but pulled his forelock.
Bob had no other name, for he was a foundling. One night Scarron haddiscovered a wee might of humanity on the doorstep of a deserted housein New York.
He picked up the child, told the constables of his find, and they verygood-naturedly declared that "those who find should keep," so Scarronkept the boy, called him Bob, and educated him in all the learning ofthe gutter.
Bob profited so well that before he was ten years old he could swearlike a trooper, fight like a pugilist, climb a flagpole with thesmartest, swim like a fish, and do a very great many other physicalfeats.
He could not read. He had never tried to write except in his ownpeculiar manner, which no one else could understand.
His moral faculties were not overbright, but he believed in some power;he had been taught that unless he told the truth and acted honestly,God would take him to some dungeon where the light of day never entered.
He was as faithful as any dog, and had an intense love for Scarron,and secondarily for the starry banner, which he fancied had some magicpower for good.
Bob was not handsome; in fact, it would be very difficult to find aplainer, or, to use very expressive language, uglier, boy in a week'ssearch.
Tempest looked at him, and asked again:
"Can you swim a mile?"
Had the officer said a knot, or so many fathoms, he would haveunderstood, but a mile was very vague.
"Is it a mile from York to Staten Island?" asked Bob.
"Yes, over five miles."
"Then I can do it, for I've swum to the island and back withoutstopping."
"Bob, listen to me. I want to send a message to the _Lively Bee_; Idare not send a boat, for the English gunners would sink it. Could youcarry it to Captain Vernon?"
"Is it heavy?"
"What?"
"The thing you want me to carry."
Tempest laughed.
"It is a letter."
"Yah, I can do it."
"I wish you would."
"Are we going to fight in the morning?"
"Perhaps so. I'd like to know how many guns that vessel has."
Tempest spoke to himself, and had no idea that Bob heard him.
The letter to Vernon was written and placed in a well-corked bottle toprevent its destruction.
This was tied around Bob's waist, and the boy lowered himselfnoiselessly into the water.
The _Lively Bee_ was about half a mile from the _Caroline_, and Bob wasnot many minutes in covering the distance, for he was an expert swimmer.
The letter was read, and an answer prepared and placed in the bottle.
Once more Bob was in the water, but not swimming.
He lay on his back and floated, for he wanted to think.
Thinking, with him, was a difficult operation and required considerablescratching of his head.
To do this in the water was not the easiest thing, and Bob took longerthan usual to think.
"He'd like to know how many guns that skunk has, would he? Well, Iguess I can find out."
Bob arrived at this conclusion after five minutes' thought.
The Britisher was distant a mile, the three vessels forming a triangle.
Bob swam to the war ship, and waited to make sure he was not discovered.
He caught hold of the chains and climbed up until he could see the deck.
So silently did he move that not one of the men on deck heard him.
He crawled along in the shadows, waited in hiding until the watchpassed, and then moved on again.
Bob knew more about a man-of-war than many a commodore, and his stepswere guided by his instinctive knowledge.
He stood examining a gun which was longer than any he had ever seen,and his curiosity betrayed him.
One of the officers of the watch saw him.
Bob knew it, but was not afraid.
He turned quickly and seized the astonished officer by the throat.
The fingers were like iron. They closed tightly on the Englishman'sthroat, preventing him from crying out.
Two minutes and the officer was dead. Bob knew that by his weight.Letting the man down gently, he pulled a tarpaulin over him, andresumed his search as calmly as though nothing had disturbed him.
He was lowering himself into the water when he accidentally saw theEnglish flag still flying at the stern.
"That ain't the right flag," he muttered, as he looked at the UnionJack. "Blow me crazy, but if I'd got the Stars and Stripes I'd put itthere. Anyhow, that thing shan't stay."
Bob could move about with the silence of a mouse. He was barefooted,and so no footfall was heard.
Quietly he drew the halliards and lowered the flag.
The darkness aided him, or he would have failed.
He unfastened the flag and wound it around his body.
A piece of the halliard was cut off to tie the flag securely.
Bob was not yet satisfied.
He knew the direction of the captain's cabin, and he must pay hisrespects.
Placing his thumb to his nose, he extended his fingers and muttered:
"That's for you, cap'n."
One of the seamen was approaching, and Bob must escape.
He clambered over the bulwarks and reached for the chains, but missedthem.
He fell into the water with a loud splash.
"Man overboard!"
The cry was taken up by the deck watch.
Lanterns were lowered over the side, and an object could be seenfloating on the water a few yards away.
"Fire!"
Three muskets were leveled at the swimmer, but Bob was not going to bein the track of the shot.
He dived, and when he arose again to the surface he was a good manypoints to the east, and was out of range of their vision.
A new sensation diverted the attention of the crew.
"Murder!" shouted one of the watch, as he stumbled over the dead bodyof the murdered officer.
The crew gathered around.
Captain Scott looked at the lieutenant's body and asked:
"Who has done it?"
"I found him there, sir," answered the man.
"I'll find out who has done this, and he shall pay for it. Beat toquarters and let the roll be called."
The drums were beaten, and the men tumbled out of their hammocks,expecting to be called upon to fight.
The middies called the rolls, and every man answered.
When this was reported to the captain, he glared with savage wrath.
"Who, then, was that who leaped overboard?"
The mystery was greater than ever. Every man on board believed thelieutenant to have been murdered by one of the crew, who, to savehimself from death by hanging, had trusted himself to the waves, hopingto reach one of the American vessels and be received as a deserter.
"What now, fellow?" roared the captain, as one of the deck watch spokeexcitedly to his officer.
"Captain, this man tells me," said the middy, "that the flag has beenlowered and the halliards cut."
"Death and fury! I'll give every man of the night watch a dozen lashesat the triangle in the morning. Zounds! who could have lowered our flag?
"Find out, sir!" addressing the chief officer, "or I'll report you aswell. Fury! Has some Yankee boarded the _Monarch_, and none know of it?"
Captain Scott, of his majesty's sloop-of-war _Monarch_, was theangriest man in those waters that night.