The bullets struck everywhere around us; the cannon-balls made the water boil and spout so high as to come over the gunwales until the light craft was in great danger of being swamped; but, singularly enough, not one found lodgment among us.
At that moment I believed a divine Providence was watching over our commodore lest he should come to harm, and I have never since had good reason to change my opinion.
Of a verity all the marines who wore red coats aimed their guns at Perry, and we at the oars cried out to him that he must take such shelter as was possible.
“It is proper the commander of a squadron show himself,” was all the reply our entreaties could provoke, and finally I said to Alec, emboldened now by the despair which came upon me with the thought that the day was indeed lost if that bold spirit continued to present himself as a mark for the British bullets:—
“Unless the commodore sits down, and takes care to hide himself from sight of the enemy, I for one will lay down my oar, trusting that the wind may blow us out of musket-shot range!”
“I stand by what the lad has said,” one of the seamen cried, and on the instant every man stopped rowing, for there was not one aboard minded to have any share in a martyr’s death.
“To your oars, lads, to your oars!” the commodore cried excitedly. “Every second may be of the greatest value to us now!”
I had not the courage to oppose his will, but the eldest of the seamen said decidedly:—
“We’re not warranted in disobeying orders, sir; but I for one will never carry you to certain death, whatever may be the commission you hold.”
And another added:—