"Now, sir," cried the general officer to the two men who had stepped out on the wharf, "what ship is that? We are prepared for good news, seeing those two flags, and the Lord knows we need it."
"That is the transport Mellish, sir; a prize of the American
Continental ship Ranger, Captain John Paul Jones."
"Hurrah! hurrah!" cried the crowd, which had eagerly pressed near to hear the news.
"Good, good!" replied the general. "I congratulate you. How is the
Ranger?"
"We left her about one hundred leagues off Cape Sable about a week ago; she had just sunk the British sloop of war Juno, twenty-two guns, after a night action of about forty minutes. We left the Ranger bound for France, and apparently not much injured."
"What! what! God bless me, young men, you don't mean it! Sunk her, did you say, and in forty minutes! Gentlemen, gentlemen, do you hear that? Three cheers for Captain John Paul Jones!"
Just then one of the committee of Congress, and evidently its chairman,—a man whose probity and honor shone out from his open pleasant face,—interrupted,—
"But tell me, young sir,—Lieutenant Seymour of the navy, is it not? Ah, I thought so. What is her lading? Is it the transport we have hoped for?"
"Yes, sir. Lieutenant Talbot here has her bills of lading and her manifest also."
"Where is it, Mr. Talbot?" interrupted the officer; "let me see it, sir. I am General Putnam, in command of the city."