"Poor Horn," he muttered, "I owed him for two gallons of gin." And then he undressed and turned in without another word.
CHAPTER VII
The next morning the frigate was under way before we were up, but as the water appeared shoal at the end of the reach, she was anchored to await high tide, for the river is very narrow here and dangerous for a large vessel to turn about in. When we arose and came on deck a little later, we had the pleasure of seeing our friends, or rather enemies, of yesterday, pass close under the frigate's stern; and as they did so Barron leaned over the rail and saluted Captain Cahill very pleasantly and wished him a safe and happy voyage.
We stood on the Fowey's high poop and watched the swift little schooner pass up the river and disappear around the bend above us. Soon afterwards we heard the rattle of musket firing, followed by the heavy, deep boom of her pivot-gun. After the reverberating echoes died away along the wooded shores, all was silent. The sun broke through the river mist and shone warmly on the muddy water, and the day promised to be bright and quiet. The two small craft that followed the schooner now took in their sails and put out their oars, and their niggers pulled to a lusty chorus.
Dunmore was up early. He was evidently annoyed at having to spend so much time on the river, for he came on deck in quite bad humor. He greeted us rather stiffly, and then turned to Captain Graham who had also just made his appearance.
"What is that firing about?" demanded the Governor in no uncertain tone.
"I don't know, your excellency," replied Graham.
"Captain Graham," said the Governor, "you will please tell me just what you know, sir, quickly. It won't take a minute, sir, or else write it down on a slip of paper. Send Mr. Johnson to me, sir!"