Although we knew our muskets were in proper condition, Simon insisted they be discharged and reloaded, in order that we might be certain they were in working order, and he took both weapons on deck, where, after having received permission from Mr. Fernald, he emptied them.
When he returned, and while we were charging the weapons, the lad told me that the brig was yet in sight to the southward, and we stood every chance of overhauling her unless the wind should fail.
Just at that time, however, we gave very little heed to the possibility of another capture.
In the hold of the America we were confronted by such a situation as taxed our courage to the utmost.
While it was yet daylight we tried to sleep; but in vain, and after supper had been served we sat against the bulkhead, where none could come upon us from the rear, watching closely the snugly packed throng of Britishers as cats watch a lot of rats.
With all our precautions, the decisive moment came when we were least expecting it.
It was about ten o’clock at night. Two of the guard were on deck, having been drawn there by news that the chase was being rapidly overhauled, when I saw a man suddenly spring out of what had appeared to be a solid stanchion, as it looked to me, and before I had time to raise a cry the door of the brig was thrown open, the prisoners pouring out like swarming bees.
The sailor, who should have been on the alert, was standing near the foot of the ladder, waiting to learn from his two comrades who had gone on deck as to the chances of our coming up with the chase, and not until I cried out did he realise his danger.
By that time, the Britishers were upon him, and he went down like a man of straw, apparently trampled under their feet, as the foremost made a rush for the gun-deck, knowing full well that there would be found arms in plenty.