The scene was one of perfect peace and beauty. All the shipping in the harbor lay quietly at anchor, and the water was so smooth that their lights were as stationary as those that twinkled in the town and the Bashaw’s castle.
The Intrepid stole quietly in, leaving the Siren farther and farther astern. The moon was now high, flooding the sea with glory, and making the harbor lights mere twinkling points of flame. The Intrepid steered directly for the Philadelphia’s bows, and this caused her to be hailed while still a considerable distance off. A number of Tripolitans were seen lounging about the Philadelphia’s decks, and an officer smoking a long pipe leaned over the rail and called out:
“What vessel is that?”
“The ketch Stella, from Malta,” responded Catalano in Italian, which is the lingua franca of the East. “We were caught in the gale and nearly wrecked. We lost our anchors, and our commander would like the favor of riding by you during the night.” Decatur, in his round jacket and fez, lounged near Catalano, and whispered to him what to say.
“Your request is rather unusual,” replied the officer.
“Bananas and oranges, with a few bales of raw silk,” answered Catalano, pretending that he had understood the Tripolitan to ask what the Stella’s cargo was. The ketch continued to draw rapidly near, and from the Philadelphia could be seen the supposed Italian mariners moving lazily about and gesticulating to one another.
“Mule-head and son of a jackass,” cried the Tripolitan, “it is nothing to me what you are laden with! I say it is dangerous to have you dogs of Christians made fast to us. If you get on board, you will steal anything you lay your hands on.”
“That’s not a very pleasant way to meet men who have been in a whole gale for six days, with all our provisions spoiled, and on short allowance of water, and expecting every moment to go to the bottom. On the voyage we met with a xebec of your country with her captain ill and half the crew down with scurvy. We broke our cargo to give them fresh fruit, and took the captain on board and landed him at Tunis.” So answered Catalano, in an injured voice, the ketch still advancing steadily.
“Then you may lie by us until daylight,” answered the officer. At the same time he ordered a boat with a fast to be lowered. Then he called out again, his voice resounding over the smooth water, now lighted by the moon, that had climbed high in the deep blue of the night sky:
“What vessel is that in the offing?”