When the schooner was well beyond pursuit she dropped in close to shore, and word was sent to the men who guarded the horses to take them back to Marion’s camp. Then the vessel got under way once more; it was no time to loiter, as the frigates might make sail after them at any time.
Tom, sick at heart at his failure to rescue his father, had decided to stick to the Defence until he saw Laura at least in safety somewhere; and several others of his command were delighted at the prospects of a cruise upon deep water. Next morning Tom approached his uncle upon the subject of Laura.
“I’ve been running out of the port of Baltimore,” said Captain Deering, “for a long time, and we have some folks at Baltimore. You don’t remember your Uncle Ben’s family, I suppose? I’ve been to see them once or twice during the last year, and a fine, healthy lot of boys and girls they are, and Ben and his wife are as hearty as can be. Suppose I run up the Chesapeake, and have Laura stop with them for awhile?”
“An excellent idea,” said Tom, much relieved. “And I’m glad you thought of it, for Laura’s safety has been troubling me a great deal.”
The run along the coast up to the Chesapeake was enlivened by a number of chases by British vessels; there was one, a sloop-of-war, of about the same tonnage as the Defence and carrying not many more guns, which Captain Deering ran from with great regret.
“I’d like to train Long Tom on her,” said the old sea-dog, patting the long pivot gun, amidships; “but as I’ve got Laura on board, I suppose I must show the sloop a clean pair of heels.”
When they reached Baltimore, after a narrow escape from a brig and two fleet schooners which were cruising up and down at the mouth of the bay, Tom and the captain saw Laura safely housed with Uncle Ben, who was delighted to receive her; then, after many “good-byes” they once more sought the Defence.
As it happened the harbor of Baltimore was in great commotion just about that time; a great fleet of merchantmen, fifty sail in all, were waiting for a chance to sail, but the British fleet outside kept up such a vigilant watch that it seemed as though the time would never come. A brave and resolute officer, Captain Murray, who had at one time served in the land force and afterward in the infant navy, was engaged by the merchants of the port for the post of commodore of the fleet.
His personal charge was a “letter of marque,” the Revenge, carrying a crew of fifty men and eighteen guns. A few days before, Captain Murray had signaled the fleet to make sail; but upon venturing into open water he had encountered a greatly superior force and was compelled with his entire fleet to run up the Patuxent for safety.
However, he had now received word that the enemy, grown tired of waiting, had sailed, and he was making ready for another attempt. Knowing that the Defence had lately entered the port he paid her a visit next morning in his gig.