Jack had been a signal man for many years in the British navy and amused his leisure time while cruising by making a tolerably complete set of signal flags to use in an emergency. Dicky, who would much rather have been singing and fiddling than sewing, was nevertheless made to help Jack, and the two passed many hours sitting together on the gun deck stitching away industriously.
“I wonder what mammy’ll say when she finds I can play the fiddle,” Dicky would ask with boyish conceit.
“Dunno,” Jack would answer, slyly chaffing Dicky, “but I reckon she’ll be mightily pleased when she finds you can sew up a pair o’ breeches as good as any tailor man as ever set cross-legged.”
“But I ain’t a-goin’ to do no sewin’ when I’m ashore,” cried Dicky, his dignity much wounded. “I only do it now because I’m obliged to, and mammy won’t ask or expect me to sew up my own breeches at home.”
“P’raps not,” Jack would answer diplomatically.
They had cruised now for some weeks and had captured several small merchant ships, but Captain Thompson was looking for a warship to engage. On a bright September evening they sighted a large fleet of merchantmen which they hoped might be convoyed by a ship of war.
There was a good breeze, and the Raleigh being an excellent sailer both on and off the wind laid her head for the fleet. To divert suspicion and to appear like a merchantman, Captain Thompson hoisted the British ensign, lowered his ports, and had his guns on deck covered with tarpaulins. He sent the men below with instructions at the first tap of the drum to go to quarters, and Dicky as drummer boy was ordered to bring his drum on deck, where he hid it behind a gun and covered it with his jacket.
It was late in the afternoon before the ships had been seen and it was near sunset when the Raleigh, flying British colors, sailed boldly in among the fleet. There were sixteen or seventeen vessels, somewhat widely separated, and one large ship, considerably to windward, whose squareness of rig and generally fine appearance induced Captain Thompson to think she might be a heavy British frigate. But if so her commander had disguised her so effectually that her real character could not be known until the Raleigh got considerably closer than she was then.
When the Raleigh got within signaling distance of the fleet, Captain Thompson sent for Jack Bell, who, with Dicky Stubbs to help him, spread out his signal flags. All of the officers were on deck except Mr. Dobell, the first lieutenant, who was ill in his berth, just recovering from a sharp attack of rheumatism. The second lieutenant, therefore, was to superintend the signaling. The large ship was plainly visible on the horizon when the sun was sinking in a blaze of glory. As soon as Jack Bell caught sight of her he said to the lieutenant very respectfully:—
“Axin’ your parding, sir, but that ’ere ship is a seventy-four. I sarved forty year in the British navy, and I can tell one o’ them ships as fur as I can see ’em.”