Down either side of the deck stretched a row of heavy carronades, each with its crew of gunners grouped about the breach, and each shotted and primed ready for the opening volley.
On a man-of-war in time of action no one can be idle.
Hence on this occasion, from the magazine amidships to the gun deck, there reached a line of stewards, cooks, waiters and extra deck hands, ready to pass up cartridges.
Bare-footed boys, stripped naked to the waist, were skurrying about the deck.
These were the "powder-monkeys," whose duty it would be, when the firing began, to take the cartridges from the line of powder passers and carry them to the guns.
On the spar deck only a few sailors and officers were visible to the enemy.
But under the taffrail lay crouched scores of jackies, wearing blue uniforms, and smooth-faced middies and veteran lieutenants, ready at the word of command to spring into the rigging, or to swarm over the side and board the enemy should the gunwales of the vessels touch.
The English man-of-war knew nothing of all this preparation.
The British captain was exultant and hoisted a flag bearing a large figure "7," meaning that his ship had captured that number of American merchantmen.
In a few minutes the signal, "Haul too," was raised, but perhaps the Americans did not understand it, so the Britisher fired a gun.