“She is of a build and rig common in the Mediterranean,” he said to his first lieutenant, James Lawrence, who had lately joined, “and in arranging a surprise it would be best to have a Mediterranean vessel, which would not be readily suspected.”
Lawrence agreed with his young captain. Leaving the prisoners on board, a midshipman was put in command of the ketch, with a prize crew, and sent back to Syracuse. Decatur then joined the rest of the squadron, and they proceeded to Tripoli, where, lying off the town, they gave it a bombardment by way of a promise of what was to come. The lack of small vessels to enter the tortuous and rocky harbor prevented much damage being done; but the Bashaw saw the fine fleet the Americans could muster, and it was conveyed to him that it would return in a few months with guns, vessels, and bombards to sail in and attack the town in earnest.
To Captain Bainbridge and the poor prisoners with him in the dungeons of the castle the sight of “Old Glory” fluttering from the gallant little fleet in the far distance was an assurance of hope, and the cannonade, which was merely a defiance, was sweet music to the captives. The sight of the great Philadelphia riding at anchor under the guns of the castle and the fort, and degraded by wearing the Tripolitan colors, was a sore one for the American officers and sailors. But Decatur, during all the days of the cannonade, kept his eyes fixed on the frigate whenever he could, studying her position, examining charts, and thinking out his scheme for destroying the ship to save her honor. Every time he saw her his heart beat with a strange premonition, and he felt with rapture the presentiment that he was destined to glory in that undertaking.
CHAPTER IV.
Upon the return of the squadron to Syracuse, preparations went on vigorously for the attempt upon the Philadelphia. Decatur’s first plan, which he held to eagerly, of going in boldly and cutting out the frigate, was flatly forbidden by Commodore Preble as being too rash. Decatur’s second plan—going in with the ketch, disguised, and destroying the frigate—was approved of by Commodore Preble, who had, in fact, first suggested the idea to Decatur. He and “Old Pepper” spent many long hours in the cabin of the Constitution perfecting the details of this glorious but hazardous expedition, and the commodore’s respect for his “schoolboy captains” increased every day that they served under him. Particularly was he gratified at the spirit of instant acquiescence they showed when, after the keenest rivalry among them all for the honor of supporting Decatur, the privilege was accorded Captain Stewart, in the Siren, which was the fastest and most weatherly of the brigs and schooners. Somers felt the deepest disappointment, but, with his usual calm good sense, he allowed no impatient word to escape him. On the day that the use of the ketch was determined upon, Commodore Preble said to Decatur:
“And now, Captain Decatur, what shall be the name of this craft?”
“The Intrepid, sir,” answered Decatur promptly.
“Good!” was the commodore’s instant reply.
When Decatur and Somers were together that night—for no day passed without their seeing each other—Decatur spoke of the name of the ketch.
“Do you know,” said Somers, thoughtfully, “that was the very name that occurred to me?—and as I, too, long for a chance for glory, when you have returned in her I shall ask for her to carry out a plan of mine. I will not tell you of it until you come back—and you will come back, that I feel; but then you must give me all your time and abilities to help me with my scheme.”