Old Silas behaved as if appetite increased with each succeeding mouthful, and whenever he took a sip from his hook-pot of tea, it was to drink a health to those who would lead us into the game of death.
“We’re in rare luck!” he cried, when his breakfast was ended because the mess-kid had been emptied. “I ain’t sayin’ but what we deserve it, after chasin’ all over Lake Erie to find the Britishers; but yet at the same time it’s sheer luck to get them where there’s no runnin’ away from a fight, an’ they shall have enough of it before this day has come to an end.”
“You may be ended before the day is,” a red-faced sailor cried, as if trying the courage of our gunner.
“An’ supposin’ I am, lad, what better endin’ can an old shell-back like me ask for? So that the stars and stripes float over yonder fleet when the sun sets, it’s enough. As against givin’ England a proper lesson, my life don’t amount to the snap of a finger! It will be a glorious way of gettin’ out of this world.”
While such conversation as this was being carried on, clouds obscured the sun’s face, and the rain drove those of us who disliked a wetting between decks, for until this moment we had been where a view could be had of the enemy.
No one paid any particular attention to what gave promise of being only a shower, save that the wind might come with the water, and thus give the Britishers a chance to continue on toward the North Foreland, where they could fight under cover of their shore-batteries; but it still held reasonably calm.
In less than ten minutes the clouds had dispersed, and the weather-wise among us predicted that a breeze would soon follow.
“We shall get enough to take us out from among these islands, lads, and I venture to say it won’t help Johnnie Bull to any great extent!” old Silas cried gleefully. “All we need now is to have plenty of powder an’ ball near at hand, for there’ll be little time to travel from the gun to the magazine after our work is begun.”
The British were indeed waiting patiently for us, or, at least, so it seemed to me, although Alec said, later in the day, they could not have done otherwise without writing themselves down the veriest cowards.
The enemy’s fleet lay just off our anchorage, swinging to and fro as the wind veered, and we could hear the sound of drums and fifes calling the men to quarters.