OVERHAULED BY A BRITISH WAR-SHIP.—SEARCH FOR DESERTERS.—THE CAPTAIN PLAYS A YANKEE TRICK.

On the courses which the two vessels had been running we would have crossed each other's track very nearly together, and it was evidently our captain's intention to avoid doing so. That the stranger wished to meet us was evident, as she changed her course to pursue us very soon after our helm was put over. Our captain remarked to the mate that he thought from her rig that the other ship was a man-of-war, probably British, but she displayed no colors, and even had her flag been flying we were too far off to make it out.

I asked Haines why it was that we were steering away from the stranger. "Even if she is a British man-of-war," I said, "why should we wish to avoid her? We are at peace with England, and have been since the Revolution, and she certainly wouldn't harm us now, anyhow."

"Don't be so sure of that, sonny," Haines replied; "she could and probably would harm us a good deal."

"I wish you'd explain to me how she could do so, as she certainly would have no right to capture us on the high seas now. We are on a peaceful voyage, and our respective countries are not at war."

"You don't seem to understand sea things very well yet," Haines answered. "You don't know how the British ships-of-war have been treating American merchantmen ever since the Revolution."

"How is that?" I asked.

"Well, they treat us very much as if we had no rights whatever," was the reply. "Great Britain claims that when a man is once a subject of that country he is always a subject, and if the government wants him for any purpose it has a right to take him wherever he can be found."

"Oh, I see," said I; "if there are any Englishmen on board the Washington, and a British man-of-war wants them, her captain has a right to take them."

"Yes, that's it exactly. It's what the English call the Right of Search. If we sailed on so that we should be in range of that British ship, supposing she is a British one and a man-of-war, and she happened to be short-handed in her crew, she would stop us and send a boat on board to search for British deserters. Any man in our crew who was suspected of being British would be liable to be carried away to serve on the king's ship.

"And the beggars are not at all particular about it, either," he continued; "they'll pick out men who were born in America, and perhaps have never been to sea before in all their lives, and say they recognize them as British deserters. They might pick out you and your mate David and carry you off in spite of all your protests. They've done it many a time, and as our captain doesn't want to lose any of his crew, he's trying to avoid that fellow by steering away.

"There are hundreds of Americans serving to-day in the king's ships," said Haines, "who were impressed and carried away without the least reason or excuse, except that the British captain who overhauled them wanted more men and was determined to have them.

"I'll tell you more about this matter some other time," said Haines, as he turned and walked away from me.

While the conversation was going on, and it was much longer than I have given it here, I had paid no attention to the other ship. As soon as Haines left me I looked over the rail and saw that our pursuer was coming nearer to us. She was a fast sailer, and besides she had the weather gauge of the Washington, and that was a considerable advantage.

She continued to gain, though we spread every sail and did our best to get away. When she was within about two miles of us she fired a gun as a signal to us to heave to.

We paid no attention to her signal, but continued on our way with every inch of canvas spread that could draw.

A stern chase is a long chase; all day long we ran and they ran after us. It was pretty well along in the afternoon when the stranger fired her gun, and both ships were doing their best, the one to escape, and the other to overhaul.

It was a little before sunset when the British vessel, for she had hung out her colors and revealed her nationality, had reached a point within shooting distance. She fired another gun with a blank cartridge, to which we paid no attention, as before.

Then she fired a gun which had a shot in it, and the shot whistled past us, a little high in the air, but barely missing our sails. Our captain, who had been pacing the deck furiously, gave the order to heave to; he realized that his pursuer would endeavor to sink the Washington unless we complied with her very emphatic request to stop.

The stranger came up and hove to within little more than a hundred yards of us. Then she hailed us, saying,—

"What ship is that?"

Our captain answered that it was the Washington, of and from Boston, and bound to Gibraltar and a market. Haying given this answer he asked,—

"What ship is that?"

To this the stranger made no reply other than to say, "I'll send a boat on board!"

A boat containing an officer and four men came alongside the Washington, and the officer quickly ascended to the deck by means of the rope which had been lowered for him.

"What do you mean by running away from us?" was his first question as his feet touched the deck.

"I ran away because I didn't want to meet you," our captain replied; "that's all there is about it."

"Keep a civil tongue in your cheek," said the British officer, "or you'll be sorry you didn't."

"Perfectly civil," replied our captain; "you asked a plain question, and I answered it, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," said the officer; "but be careful about the rest of your answers. Call all hands, and let me see your crew!"

I believe, from the appearance of our captain's face, that if he had not realized the consequence of such an act, he would have seized the nearest handspike and laid the Britisher flat on the deck. His color came and went, and it seemed to me that for fully a minute he stood perfectly still, and made no reply. At the end of a long pause he nodded to the mate, and said, "Call all hands."

The mate passed the order to Haines, who went to the forecastle gangway, and yelled down into the interior of the ship, "All hands ahoy!" The performance was a useless one, as everybody was on deck at the time, all having become excited over the presence of the British war-ship, and knowing perfectly well there was no way of escaping inspection.

I said everybody was on deck, but in that I was mistaken, though I did not notice it at the moment. One of our sailors had disappeared, but our captain seemed to be as ignorant of the fact as I was, as he told the officer the crew was all before him, and he could look them over.

The men were lined up against the weather rail, and the officer walked slowly along in front of them, scanning each face very closely. When he came to Haines, he asked his name and where he came from.

"My name's Bill Haines," was the answer, "and I come from Salem, in Massachusetts."

"Oh, Salem," said the officer, "Salem; were you born there?"

"Yes, sir; I was born in Salem, and if you've ever been there, and know anything about it, I'll tell you all the streets in the city."

"I've never been there, and don't want to go," the officer replied; "you're a British deserter, and you come from Devonshire!"

"That's a lie!" said Bill; "I never saw Devonshire, or any other shire of England, in my life!"

"Be careful how you talk to a British officer! Be careful!"

"When a British officer, or any other man, tells me something about myself wot ain't true, I've a right to say so, haven't I?"

"You've a right to use a civil tongue, and you'll use it before I get through with you."

"I was born in Salem, and here's the papers to show I'm an American." With that Bill drew from a pocket inside his shirt his American protection papers, made out in regular form and shape, so that there was no denying his nationality. The officer took the papers in his hand, scanned them quickly, and then, dropping them on the deck, not condescending to return them to their owner, he proceeded to the next man.

He asked almost exactly the same questions that he had in Haines's case, and received practically the same replies, though they were less independent in their character. When he came to me, I answered his questions promptly, told where I was born, how old I was; in fact, informed him of all he wished to know. He seemed to hesitate over my case, as to whether he should take me along or not, but evidently concluded that there was not the least shadow of a reason which he could allege for believing that I was of British birth, and, furthermore, my youth was such that it would have been almost ludicrous to claim me as a deserter.

David was standing next to me and of course his answers were almost identical with mine. To make assurance doubly sure, the officer required David to step out of earshot of me, and answer certain questions which he asked about the distance between our houses, the number and names of the members of our families, and little matters of that sort. Then he sent David back to his place in the line and called me out to answer the same questions. The similarity of our replies satisfied him of the truth of our stories and we were not further molested.

It took him perhaps half an hour to get through with the examination of the crew. He found two men who admitted that they were of British birth, but had lived a good while in America and had protection papers, showing that they had been duly naturalized and were citizens of the United States. They denied emphatically that they had ever served in the British navy, but he paid no attention to their denials and ordered them down into his boat. He evidently wanted to take along our friend Joe Herne, and doubtless would have done so if Joe had not been armed with his protection papers in the same way that Haines was.

Then he called up one of his men from the boat and said he would search the ship to see if anybody had hidden away. Accompanied by the sailor he went through the forecastle, and afterwards through the quarters of the captain and mates. The captain appeared to be mollified somewhat during the search, and thankful that he was losing only two men. While the search was going on in the cabin he asked the officer to take a glass of rum.

It was rather derogatory to the British dignity for an officer of a king's ship to drink with an American merchant captain, and our skipper appeared to recognize the fact. Placing the bottle and a single glass on the table, he briefly said, "Help yourself," and then stepped respectfully aside.

The officer smacked his lips over the glass of rum, and then poured out a second one, the sailor whom he had brought on board standing respectfully behind him. Neither of them noticed that the captain had left the cabin and gone on deck, or if they did observe it they suspected nothing. The officer found the rum of excellent quality, and it did not take long for his brain to become considerably muddled. Meantime something he little dreamed of was going on outside the cabin.

A signal of recall had been hoisted on the British ship, from which we had drifted somewhat, so that the distance was twice as great as when the officer came on board. Somehow our captain did not observe the signal of recall; neither did the mate nor anyone else.

I asked Haines what the signal was, and he replied in a low voice,

"Shut your mouth, you young idiot! Don't ask no questions; don't you see the old man's looking the other way?"

I turned my eyes in the direction of the captain, and found that his gaze was directed as far as possible from the British ship. He was doing nothing in particular, and I thought he might be looking out to see if any other ship was happening along from that quarter of the ocean.

Ten or fifteen minutes passed away in this manner, and then a gun was fired from the man-of-war.

The firing of the gun compelled our captain to look in the direction whence the sound came, and after looking a moment toward the other vessel, he proceeded slowly toward the cabin, where he had left the officer and the bottle of rum enjoying each other's society. He told the officer about the signal of the gun-fire, and the latter thanked him in a voice that was decidedly husky.

The condition of the sailor who accompanied the officer below showed that he had been treated to a drink or two; the kindly nature of the officer had been awakened by the rum that he had imbibed, and he wished all around him to be happy. It's very easy to be generous with what belongs to somebody else. When the officer and his man came on deck, the former was very effusive in his thanks to our captain for his hospitality. Thereupon the captain asked that he would let the two alleged deserters come aboard the ship a moment to get their dunnage.

"Oh, certainly," said the officer, who was in a condition to consent to anything. He turned to the sailor and told him to order the men up.

The sailor obeyed his instructions, and in a moment the men were on deck and told to go below and get their dunnage. Then the officer went over the side and descended into his boat, followed by the sailor.

By this time night had begun to spread over the ocean, and the darkness was such that it half obscured the outline of the British ship. When the officer and sailor had reached the boat, our captain gave an order in a low voice to the mate to brace around the yards and square away. "And don't make any fuss about it, either," he added; "be as quiet as you can."

Every man went to his post, and almost in less time than it takes me to tell it, the yards were braced around, the sails were filling, and the ship was hauling away from her disagreeable neighbor. The Britishers in the boat alongside discovered what we were about, and the officer yelled out,—

"What are you doing there? Heave-to, or I'll sink you!"

"Heave-to yourself, soon's you like!" replied our captain; and then, leaning over the side, he added, "you'd better cast off and go home to your mother!"

The language that his Majesty's officer used in reply I will not repeat. It was more forcible than elegant, and if oaths could have sunk the Washington she would soon have been at the bottom of the sea. After a few minutes' practice with his lungs in this way, the officer came to his senses and cast off. There was no danger that he would not reach his ship safely, as there was no heavy sea running, and she had several lights visible, in addition to the fact that the darkness was not yet such as to hide her from sight.

Of course our maneuver was discovered, but not until a few minutes after we made it. Those few minutes were precious, as they enabled us to increase materially the distance between the ships, and it lessened in the same degree the chances of being hit by the shots which they now sent after us. We paid no attention to the firing, but spread every stitch of canvas to enable us to get away. In half an hour the other vessel was completely out of sight by reason of the darkness; and we argued that when we were unable to make her out she could not see us.

We took a course midway between the one on which we were sailing when we espied the stranger, and the one to which we changed; by that means we hoped to throw her quite off our track. Not a light was allowed anywhere, not even in the binnacle, the steering being done mainly by the stars. Three or four times during the night the captain darkened the ports, and made a small light in his cabin, to look at the compass which hung over the dinner-table and make sure that we were running on the proper course.

We looked around very anxiously in the morning, and were gratified to discover that our late acquaintance had disappeared somewhere beyond the horizon. She was out of sight, but not out of mind; in fact, she was the sole topic of conversation, and we all fell to wondering what she would do with us if she should overhaul us again.

"One thing her skipper would do," said Haines, "he'd keel-haul our captain for getting his officer drunk."

"Ay, that he would," said Herne, "and I don't envy the position of that officer when he got back to his ship, and had to acknowledge that he was the victim of a Yankee trick."

"Another thing he'd do," said one of the sailors, "he'd take off about two-thirds of the Washington's crew, and leave us so short-handed that we'd have a hard time getting to port."

"'Twas a lucky go," said another, "that them two fellers wot he picked out as deserters come back to get their dunnage."

"Yes, and they'd never come back if it hadn't been that the officer had lost his head with the captain's rum-bottle. They ought to take that rum-bottle and tie it all around with ribbons, and set it up as an idol to worship, just as the heathen do."

"Oh, nonsense, you can't expect good Americans to act like heathen! It would have been a clear case of impressment if those men had been taken on board the British ship, and the officer knew it just as well as the men knew it themselves."

Various other comments were made which I do not remember at this moment. After a while the conversation turned to Joe Waller, the man who disappeared at the time the crew was mustered. Nobody knew exactly what became of him, and every one was careful to make no surmise as to his probable nationality. It was pretty generally believed that he was British born, and had served on a king's ship. The captain probably had an inkling of the matter, and told Waller where he could hide.

There was a linen-locker opening out of the captain's cabin, and the top of it was finished so as to afford sufficient space for a small man to climb up there, and stow himself away against the deck. Nobody would ever think of looking there for a man, and it is just possible that the place was originally designed for purposes of concealment. 'Twas lucky for Joe that he was small, or he never could have got in there.

Waller came up as usual with his watch, and went on duty. Two or three of us asked him where he was when the British officer came aboard; at every question he assumed a wild appearance, and said he had been taken up in the air by the Flying Dutchman, carried to the North Pole, and then to the South Pole, and then back again to the Washington. The Dutchman held him by the scruff of the neck all the time, and he felt rather stiff and uncomfortable. The fact is, he was cramped so in the linen-locker that it's no wonder he didn't have the use of his joints for a day or so. After he had quizzed a few of us that way with his yarn about the Flying Dutchman, we quit talking with him on the subject. He was scared, and no mistake, and certainly he had good reason to be.

Haines suggested that he hoped my shipmate, Waller, was the only one on board to make any acquaintance with the Flying Dutchman. I had seen mention of this individual in some of the books I had read, but no explanation as to who he was; so I asked Haines about him.

"Does he have wings to fly with?" I inquired, "or does he float about the sky on a machine of some sort? Perhaps he isn't a man, but just the ghost of one."