The day was hot. Those on shore were bathed in perspiration.
Had thermometers been so plentiful in the streets then as they are now they would have told the sweating crowd that ninety degrees in the shade had been reached.
But if standing still, watching the great war vessels sail lazily out of the harbor, was hot work, what must those sailors in the captain's boat have experienced as they rowed through the waters of the bay at racing speed.
"You lazy lubbers, I guess you think you're in church with your wives, and can go to sleep. Rouse up, will you, and land me on the Lively Bee."
Tempest thought he had never been so hot before. He was not afraid of work, he expected it.
He had entered as a man before the mast, and he knew a dog's life was one to be envied when compared with that of a common seaman.
The most barbarous cruelties were practiced on sailors; they were not treated to any consideration, and therefore John Tempest was not surprised at the hard work he had to endure.
He was ready to drop with the heat and fatigue, but he would not allow the captain to see he was tired.
The Narrows were reached before the boat overtook the Lively Bee, and the waters of the Lower Bay were entered before the captain and his men stood on the deck of the famous schooner.
The crew saluted the captain, who responded warmly, and then bade Tempest follow him to the cabin.