After the task had been performed, Paul Jones naturally expected to see the fires which his parties were to start. To his great disappointment no welcome flare showed itself in either direction. In the dim light of early dawn—that alarming dawn, so little desired—the captain hurried forward, only to discover that the party under Mr. Hill and Mr. Wallingford were in considerable confusion. The fires they had ignited had refused to burn, and their candles had gone out as well. It was the same situation with the other party; their candles also had gone out, and there seemed no way to relight them.
Although the day was coming on apace and danger of discovery grew with it, the dauntless Scotch commander would not give up his project until every expedient had been exhausted. Placing sentinels to guard against a surprise, he sent Wannashego and a few men to the nearest house. The inmates were forced to deliver lights for the candles. With the aid of these a fire was soon started in the steerage of a large ship, which was in the midst of a hundred or more others. To make sure that this blaze would not burn out, a barrel of tar was placed upon it. In a short time flames were springing up out of all hatchways in the vessel.
Now the inhabitants of the town began to appear in hundreds. Individuals ran angrily toward the burning ship, bent on extinguishing the flames before they should communicate to the adjoining vessels.
"They must not be permitted to put out this fire now or our plans are ruined completely!" cried Paul Jones. With the words he sprang between the ship and the foremost of those running up, drew two pistols from his belt, and leveled them at the angry faces.
"One step nearer and some of you will be dead men!" cried the Scotch captain. "Back with you as fast as you came, else by the eternal day and night you shall feel this lead!"
"Why, it's Paul Jones!" called somebody in the throng, who recognized him.
Instantly the crowd fell back in fright. Not a man among them but who had heard of the things this daredevil had already done to the ships of their countrymen.
Paul Jones smiled grimly, as the people continued to retreat before his menacing pistols. Nor did he once leave his post until the ship back of him was a mass of flames and the whole shipping in the neighborhood hopelessly afire from it. Then he stepped coolly down into one of his boats, which had been brought up, and in company with the other, without the loss of a single man, he went back to the Ranger.
If the attempt had been made an hour earlier it is impossible to estimate the damage the Americans might have done, but dawn saved the town of Whitehaven, also half of the shipping. Paul Jones was disappointed because his plans had in a measure miscarried. But he had accomplished much for his country just the same. The excitement along the coast was intense. Every English port, nervous and trembling, was on the watch for the bold invader. No Englishman felt safe so long as Paul Jones roamed the sea at will. Much less did British captains feel secure.