“Yonder is the scuttle-butt,” coolly responded the officer, pointing to the water-butt with its tin dipper.
Macdonough, without a word, folded his arms, and made no move toward the water-butt. The other British officers, standing about, looked rather uncomfortable at the discourtesy shown the young midshipman, but none of them attempted to repair it or to teach manners to the captain’s son. Macdonough, who not many years after captured seventeen British ensigns in one day, stood, insulted and indignant, in silence, upon the deck of the British ship.
In a few moments the deserter, who had been supplied with dry clothes, appeared on deck. As he was an able-bodied fellow, he would be very acceptable among the crew of the Thunderer, so the captain addressed him in very mild terms:
“Well, my man, are you a British or an American citizen?”
“British, sir,” responded the deserter boldly.
“This man,” said Macdonough to Captain Lockyer, “is an American citizen from the State of New York. He enlisted as an American citizen, and I can prove it by one of our quartermasters in the boat.—Here, Dixon!”
Danny Dixon, hearing his name, now appeared over the side, touching his cap politely.
“Do you not know this man, John Hally, to be an American citizen?” asked Macdonough.
“Yes, sir,” replied the quartermaster. “I’ve knowed him for ten year, and sailed two cruises with him. He’s got a family on Long Island. He ain’t no more British nor I am.”
“Perhaps you are, then,” said Captain Lockyer. “Your crews are full of British subjects.”