The next day proved clear and fine, and also the following day, but no sail of importance, so far as small craft were concerned, was discovered. Such vessels as were passed that flew the English ensign were too big to be reckoned with or too near armed escort; but on the morning of the 4th of the month, off the coast of Holland, a little single-sticker, a cutter, was discovered bowling merrily along from the westward, and from what the Surprise’s French pilot said it was plain that she was the very one for which Captain Conyngham was watching—the Harwich packet, that bore the mails for the north of Europe, usually carrying, besides crown moneys, a small but rich cargo.

The rules of the road at sea have been from time immemorial practically the same for sailing ships, and a vessel close hauled has the right of way of one going free on the wind. When the packet was first sighted she was running with the wind almost astern and making good time, as she tossed the white foam before her. Now, the Surprise was close hauled on the starboard tack, and it would have required but a little careful sailing to bring her across the packet’s bows. The latter had flown a63 large English ensign, but Conyngham had shown no flag at all, although the big red and white striped ensign with the rattlesnake across the field lay on the deck ready to be hoisted to the peak.

Nearer and nearer the two vessels came. The helmsman on the packet was evidently perplexed as to the intentions of the approaching lugger, for he had swung his vessel off in order to give the latter room to cross his forefoot. But every time he did so the Surprise would luff a little, for it was Conyngham’s intention to get close under the packet’s stern and board her if possible without firing a shot.

The trick worked like magic. In a few minutes the Englishman was so close that the features of the helmsman could be seen distinctly. He was not in the least suspicious, for he gazed in silence at the approaching lugger, contemptuously smiling at her apparently clumsy sailing.

A man who had been walking up and down the deck came to the rail as if he supposed that the Surprise was about to hail him, and making ready to answer.

Conyngham had kept his men below well out of sight, though they were all armed with pistols and cutlasses ready to rush on deck at a given signal. Just before he came under the Englishman’s stern, he let go his sheets and swinging off suddenly, his bowsprit swept over the stranger’s taffrail, beneath which appeared the words “Prince of Orange” in big red letters. The cutter, whose sails, now deprived of the wind, flapped uselessly, lost headway. Another second, and the Surprise struck so gently that it hardly started the paint on her cutwater, a grapple was thrown on board, and from the forward64 hatch a score of men poured over the bows upon the other’s deck.

Captain Baxter, the English skipper, was in the cabin at breakfast with five passengers, four of them merchants and one a young secretary bearing dispatches to the Dutch Government, when the mate shouted through the transom that a strange vessel had run afoul of them, and that they were being boarded by pirates!

“Great heavens!” exclaimed one of the merchants in consternation. “Pirates in the English Channel! Bless my soul, never!”

Before Captain Baxter could gain the foot of the companion-ladder a figure stepped into the cabin.

“Who are you, and what are you doing aboard my vessel?” roared the captain, reaching for a cutlass that hung from one of the berths that lined the sides.

“Hold! not so fast, my friend,” was the quiet answer. “Sure, it’s much better to take no unnecessary trouble. And my advice to you is to be as quiet as a mouse.”

As he spoke, Conyngham shifted his hand to the butt of a pistol that protruded from under his long blue coat.

Though his words were lightly spoken, the Englishman saw a dangerous gleam in the captain’s dark eyes, and stood still, muttering.

“Are you a pirate?” he demanded, hoarsely, at last.

“Far from that,” answered Conyngham, smiling and advancing farther into the little space. “If the gentlemen will seat themselves, I shall be glad to inform you of the circumstances. You are prisoners of the American cruiser Surprise, that I have the honor to command. But you need fear nothing, I assure you.”
A score of men poured over the bows.

65 “What is your name and under whose authority are you acting?” demanded the young under-secretary, who had now found his tongue.

“My name is Conyngham,” was the reply, “and I am acting under authority of the president of the American Congress.”

“You will hang for it,” interposed one of the merchants. “I shall complain to the Government—such an outrage, and in the English Channel, too!”

Conyngham smiled.

“You can write a letter to the Times if you see fit, my good sir,” he replied, “but at present there is no use of being bad-natured. Don’t allow me to disturb you in your meal, as I see you’ve just begun.”

At this moment a slight scuffle and some loud words came from the deck above. The captain again started to his feet.

“They’re securing the crew,” Conyngham said in explanation. “There is no use in making a fuss over the matter; we’re in complete possession. Be easy now.”

Just as he spoke the lank figure of the Yankee second mate appeared at the foot of the ladder. He saluted Conyngham, and grinned at the others as if enjoying their discomfiture.

“I have to report, sir, that all’s well, and await your orders. There is one man we had to put into irons; the rest submitted quietly.”

“You see how matters stand, gentlemen,” Conyngham went on, “and before we cast off our lashings I shall have to ask you to accompany me to my vessel.”

“A most high-handed proceeding,” muttered the English merchant.

66 But his protestations were interrupted by the young secretary at this point.

“It’s always best,” said he, “to accept a bad position gracefully, and I am sure if this gentleman,&r............