The tiny boat in which the adventurous American hoped to reach the welcome shores of France, bobbed up and down, as she ambled towards the low-lying coast, under a gentle southerly breeze. But there was trouble in this self-same wind, for the white wings of a British privateer grew nearer and nearer, and a hail soon came:
“What’s your name, and where are you bound?”
Barney and his partners in distress did not answer at all. They scowled as a boat was lowered from the side of their pursuer, and quickly splashed towards them. In not many moments, a swearing sea-captain swung himself upon their deck.
“Who are you, you lubbers?” said he. “Where’ yer papers, and where’ yer bound to?”
“I’m a British officer,” replied the astute Joshua, opening his coat and disclosing the uniform of the service. “I am bound for France upon official business.”
The Captain snickered.
“An’ with two others in er’ launch? Aw go tell that to th’ marines!”
“It’s God’s truth. I’m in a state secret.”
“Wall—be that as it may be—you must come aboard of my vessel and tell yer state secret to th’ authorities in England. Meanwhile, I’ll put a skipper of my own aboard yer vessel and we’ll travel together—bein’ friends.”
Barney swore beneath his breath.