The alarm came too late. The little craft was now close up and a hearty pull brought her against the hull of the large ship.
"Boarders away!" came the stirring order.
"Follow me, lads," cried Decatur, springing for the chain-plates of the frigate. Men and officers were after him hot-foot. Midshipman Charles Morris was the first to reach the deck, with Decatur close behind.
Decatur at Tripoli.
The surprise was complete. There was no resistance. Few of the Moors had weapons, and they fled from the Americans like frightened sheep. On all sides the splashing of water could be heard as they leaped overboard. In a few minutes they were all gone and Decatur and his men were masters of the ship.
They would have given much to be able to take the noble frigate out of the harbor. But that could not be done, and every minute made their danger greater. All they could do was to set her on fire and retreat with all speed.
Not a moment was lost. Quick-burning material was brought from the Intrepid, put in good places, and set on fire. So rapidly did the flames spread that the men who were lighting fires on the lower decks had scarcely time to escape from the fast-spreading conflagration.
Flames poured from the port-holes, and sparks fell on the deck of the smaller vessel. If it should touch the powder that was stored amidships, death would come to them all. With nervous haste they cut the ropes, and the Intrepid was pushed off. Then the sweeps were thrust out and the little craft rowed away.