Half an hour later his now sleepy reverie was disturbed by Captain Jorham's lighting a rank pipe at the lantern.
"Ye can come on deck now. We're out o' the Darsena and passin' the molo. Now's the rub." He stumped on deck with Anthony. The brig was slipping along very quietly in a following wind with nothing but her jibs set.
"They don't stand out like a squaresail against the sky," said the captain, eyeing the molo with its row of cannon and the flagstaff still bare before sunrise. "In ten minutes we'll be by. The tide's with us."
Suddenly Philadelphia emerged from the galley beating a pan. "Breakfus is re-ady!"
"God dang ye!" howled the captain plunging at him and smothering the pan. They watched the shore breathlessly. There was a spurt of fire on the sea wall by the molo...
"One, two, three, four, five, six," counted the captain.
Bang, drifted to them the report of the sentry's musket.
"Make sail," he ordered. "Over two thousand yards. We'll make it, Mr. Adverse."
The Wampanoag surged forward. Both her masts were now blossoming out sail after sail. As yet there was nothing more from the fort. Then they saw some lanterns glimmer behind the embrasures in the morning twilight. The captain gave the ship a sudden wide yaw to port.
Flash, flash, flash. Along the molo smoke and thunder. The round shot smacked just to starboard and astern. Captain Elisha whistled as he twisted the spokes of the big wheel again and brought the Wampanoag back on her course.
"The trick is not to spill more'n half your wind," said he calmly.
"They are old Spanish pieces, captain," said Anthony.
"Aye, aye," said he, "and sleepy gunners behind 'em."
Flash, bang, smack.
"Kind o' vicious about it, be'n't they ? But the stern of a ship ain't much to hit at nigh a mile in the glimmerin' dawn. Tide hasn't half ebbed yet and we'll keep our backside pinted at 'em clear over the bar."
"Lay aloft and douse them sails down, all hands. Philly, God dang ye, buckets, buckets!"
"The canvas is still wet from the rain last night, sir, isn't it?" asked Anthony.
"Yep," said the captain looking not too pleased. Then he laughed. "By God, ye're right, young man, ye're a cool one! . . . Belay that," he bellowed. "Collins, h'ist the grand old gridiron, let 'em see what they're shootin' at."
Well out from the lee of the land, the ship gathered way rapidly as she flashed down the roads with a bone in her teeth and the morning light tingeing her topsails. It was a long and lucky shot that would catch her now! But the French were evidently annoyed and continued to burn powder.
Thus with the fort thundering behind her and the Stars and Stripes snapping at her peak the Wampanoag rushed forward into the open sea.