"In that case I order all flags down," answered Short, his neck flushing crimson. "Since you are such an intractable ass, you must be driven. Let every shred of bunting be down ere the sun sets, or it shall be brought down. If you court hard knocks, you may expect them."
He turned away in a rage, and Burnham whistled "Yankee Doodle," while a few silly sailors who had overheard the conversation cheered their representatives and hissed at Cecil Stark. But later in the day Anson prevailed with his detachments, and at sunset, rather than provoke an actual struggle, the flags came down. To the end, however, they defied their guards. Captain Short himself led three hundred men with fixed bayonets, and Sergeant Bradridge, who was of the number, expected at last to hear the sound of battle. But as the red winter sun sank behind the Moor, every flag fluttered simultaneously to earth, and for that time acute danger vanished with the daylight.
Many sailors were now arriving from the British battleships. These men, on hearing of peace, claimed the rights of American citizenship, and refused longer to fight against their fellow-countrymen. Those guilty of such tergiversation met but a frosty welcome at Prince Town, and new strifes followed upon their arrival. Among these shifty mariners were six from H.M.S. Pelican, who had fought in the action between that vessel and the United States brig Argus. The crew of the captured brig had been imprisoned at Prince Town; and after the Pelican's men arrived, such was the bitter animosity displayed against them that they found their lives in danger. To Captain Short these people appealed for protection, and another grave collision occurred between Burnham's party and the Commandant, when a detachment of soldiers entered the War Prison and rescued the six by force of arms. Then came two more defaulters from an English ship, and as both had actually volunteered for British service from Prince Town a year before, they were received back again with universal execration. A court convened by Ira Anson sat upon these poor wretches, and while some cried for their instant death, others proposed a flogging.
It was Mr. Knapps who hit upon an agreeable punishment to meet their crime.
"Take the doodles and brand 'em," he said. "They've got the name of a British ship tattooed over their dirty hearts, for I seed it there; now put U.S.T. on their faces, so as they'll be known evermore for United States Traitors."
The proposal was cheered and acted upon. To the hospital the sufferers went after their punishment, and Doctor Macgrath did what was possible to eradicate the damning letters; but they had been bitten in too well. Captain Short took this matter gravely, and the men responsible for the actual assault were thrust into the cachots to stand their trial.
Another incident to illustrate the growing rancour and bitterness may be given. A prisoner—one of four unfortunates who had suffered six months in a cachot—watched his opportunity when at exercise, and escaped from his yard to the next. He was immediately surrounded by his countrymen, and when Short demanded him back, the Americans refused to give him up. Thereupon the Commandant appeared with fixed bayonets and directed all prisoners to retire into their respective quarters, that a strict search might be made for the escaped man. Burnham, however, defied this order in the name of his comrades.
"This poor devil has suffered enough," he said. "His crime, which was an alleged attempt to blow up a British schooner, was never proved against him, and we will not restore him to renewed tortures. I am master here, and we lack not for arms or skill to use them. That you will learn to your cost, if you try force against us. You forget that the war is ended now."
Captain Short perceived that with his small company he would have little chance against the threatening hordes arrayed against him; therefore, without answering Burnham, he gave the order to retire, and left the prison amid wild and derisive shouts and cat-calls.
But albeit defeated, the Commandant took a weak man's revenge and shut up the Prison markets. Instantly Burnham and his friends issued an order that no carpenter, mason nor other mechanic should do any further work for the British Government until the markets were re-opened. This 'strike' caused such unexpected expense and inconvenience, that Captain Short was constrained to yield again. The markets were set going once more and the artificers promptly returned to their labours. Thus the prisoners achieved their ends, and Burnham, flushed with success, continued to take the side of lawlessness; while Short, much embittered by his reverse and uneasily conscious that his own officers were laughing at him, sank into a brooding ferocity that darkened his face and boded ill for the future.