“Well, sir,” rapped out the captain.
“My lights went out, sir, just as I was about to begin work, and so I could not carry out my orders.”
This was long before the day of “brimstone” matches. The two boats carried lanterns in which were placed lighted candles, and to these most uncertain things they had to trust for the success or failure of a most brilliantly planned expedition.
“You will find lights in my boats there, I think,” said Captain Paul Jones. “Take them and try once more; there may yet be time.”
His face was white with anger; he had worked hard and dared much for success, and that such a trivial thing as this should threaten failure almost made him lose control of himself.
Ethan bounded toward the captain’s boat to get the lights; but here, too, the candles had guttered out, and all that was left was a smear of tallow and the blackened end of a wick.
“Lights are out here, too,” he cried. Captain Jones drew in his breath sharply.
“It seems that we are to have our share of misfortune indeed,” said he with a mirthless laugh. “But lights must be had.”
“There is a house a little way below there,” volunteered Ethan. “I saw it as we came along. It’s farther from the town than any other.”
“Tell Browne to give you a few men, and go there, then,” said the commander instantly. “Knock and ask decently at first; but if they refuse, or delay, beat down the door and help yourself.”