"You look lovely, Mr. Macgregor," Barney said.
Macgregor wanted to say that the captain did, too, but he didn't quite dare. Instead he said gravely, "Thank you, sir. Blue certainly becomes Jerrell, there. It matches his eyes."
Barney turned and raised the glass in his hand to his eye. Abaft the starboard beam were three sails. There wasn't much time here. He had certainly found part of the fleet for which he was searching.
He went down the gangway, and amidships. The guns were run out and loaded. The matchsticks already sizzled. The ship had been cleared for action since the enemy sail had been sighted an hour ago. And the cutter "Sylph" was almost within hailing distance. Barney said, "The first man who fires, or gun crew who fires a gun before the order will be flogged as soon as he can be hauled to the nearest grating!" He turned on his heel and went aft again, once more raising the glass to study the three ships. At the time they had been spied, they were sailing full before the wind, on a north-northwest course. Now they had kept on the same course, but had taken in some sail, and the nearest ship had backed the maintop.
"She's hanging around to see what's happening," Barney said to
187
Scull. Macgregor had gone fore and was along the line of guns.
Scull knew the first sound of gunfire would bring the enemy ships upon them. To Scull they looked like a line of battleships and two frigates. He pushed the thought aside and concentrated on his task orders, which were to bring the "Sylph" under his lee, in a completely indefensible position. He kept glancing from the weather-vane, to the "Sylph," to the helm. At least the "Sylph" was obeying orders which she thought came from His Majesty's ship "Triton." The "Athena," sails set, bore down on the cutter.
The distance between the two ships narrowed fast. In Barney's hand was the brilliant red flag that meant no quarter. He dug in his pocket and came out with his watch. What would happen next would happen fast, or not at all.
"Commander Carr!"
The cry came back immediately. "Aye aye, sir!" Commander Carr had been watching the "Athena" for some time; he had seen the uniforms of her ofBcers; her signals had been correct. The next words he heard, from only fifty feet away, were incredible. First he heard his name repeated.
"Commander Carr! You have been sadly tricked! This is the United States privateer 'Athena'!"
Carr stood stockstill on his own quarterdeck. And the ship "Athena" was even closer now; thirty feet, then twenty. He heard,
"Captain Barney speaking. You'll note the red flag, sir. If there is any resistance whatsoever, we give no quarter. You have three minutes."
Barney held up the watch. Commander Carr saw the eighteen-pounders only twenty feet away; he saw the sizzling of the match-sticks. He was helpless, completely helpless. The relentless voice went on.
"You have two minutes, sir, to surrender, else I will sink you with all hands."
Carr cried, "You give us no quarter?"
"None," said Barney, his voice coming over the twenty feet. Carr saw his face, plainly; he saw the watch upheld; he smelled the matchsticks burning and pointed right at him was an eighteen-pound cannon. He faced it, looking right into the muzzle.
"Oh, God," he muttered.
"You have one minute," Barney said, the red flag fluttering from his hand. "Else I sink you, sir. With all hands."
188
Carr could not stand it any longer. He said, his voice strangled, "We surrender. We surrender!"
The "Athena" was almost touching the "Sylph." "Irons," cried Barney.
The men were ready. The irons swung out. The "Sylph" was boarded in a matter of seconds. Lang, the marine officer, swung over to her quarterdeck, pistols in each hand. "Don't touch that flag," he roared, as a British sailor started to haul on the ropes.
Men swarmed aboard. Barney was taking no chances. He watched with approval as Lang and Jerrell and Macgregor took charge. In less than two minutes the English crew were mustered on deck. Their knives flew overboard. Barney leaned on the rail and spoke to the commander, who stood on his own deck, dazed.
"You hadn't even broken out your arms chests, had you. Commander Carr?"
He didn't wait for an answer. He turned again, and raised the glass. The other three ships were still on the same course. It was possible he might get away with this. By the time he turned back to the "Sylph." Macgregor was swinging aboard the "Athena" again, and coming aft to report.
"Crew confined, sir; Mr. Lang and prize crew ready, sir, to take over. Mr. Jerrell is escorting the captain and officers aboard the 'Athena.' "
"Very good, Mr. Macgregor," Barney said briefly. He watched Carr come aboard, followed by his officers. They came slowly up to Barney.
They offered their weapons. Barney motioned to Scull. "Take these men below, Mr. Scull." They looked abashed and hopeless. Barney said, "Fortunes of war, sirs. I'll send you in a couple of bottles of rum. Drown in it. Just a moment. Commander. What ships are those?" He gestured.
Carr knew. He spoke without thinking, for he was praying they would sense something amiss. But as his eyes took in the "Athena" —she looked British! He answered Barney's question. "Those are His Majesty's ships 'Monarch,' 'Panther' and 'Sybil'!" He turned. "You'll excuse me, now, sir!"
"Gladly, sir," said Barney. As Scull herded them below, the three younger officers kept glancing back at Barney.
"Yes, that's he, sirs," Scull said. He couldn't help grinning widely. He added, "I'll send the rum Captain Barney ordered."
189
When he returned to the deck, the "Sylph" was already hauling away, Lang waving from the quarterdeck, and the British flag still flying bravely. Not a shot had been fired.
Aboard the "Monarch," Captain Reynolds was frowning deeply. Across the heaving water, he watched for signals from the "Panther," who was relaying them from the frigate "Sybil." When he received the signal he was even more puzzled as to the correct decision.
He was under orders to intercept the Dutch convoy, of thirty sail of merchantmen. Convoying them was a sixty-gun Dutch ship. The "Monarch" herself boasted seventy-four cannon; the "Panther" thirty-six; the "Sybil" thirty-two. But Reynolds had not an hour to lose. The Dutch had left Stasia thirty-six hours before he had; he could not pursue beyond the latitudes of the Bermudas. He would have to beat to windward, and consume precious time in order to see what ship was hauling away to the south as fast as she could. He swore under his breath. But he thought his duty was plain, because he was pretty sure he knew what ship that was. He gave a brief order to the signalman, to be relayed via the "Panther" to the ship nearest the stranger.
The signal was read quickly. The "Sybil's" captain, Rutherford, looked up at weathervane and sails. He gave a brief order. Then he said, to his first officer:
"Hands to dinner, Mr. Jowett."
High on the mizzentopgallant masthead Barney fixed the glass on the "Panther." He saw the signal. He saw the "Sybil" change course. He lowered the glass and came down onto the deck.