My own plan, had I come alone, was to force open the door and seize the men within before they could recover from their surprise. But Lieutenant Haines had arranged to obtain by ruse what I should have gained by force. Raising the hilt of his sword, he pounded loudly on the door. Twice he was compelled to do this, and then a sleepy voice asked:
“Who’s there? What do you want?”
“Our boat is ashore. We want shelter for the rest of the night,” the officer answered as though he belonged to the British patrol.
“Aye! aye! sir,” came the response, “I’ll be there in a moment.”
There was a shuffling of feet and then the door was thrown wide open for us. Springing in, we seized the attendant before he could make the slightest resistance. There were six other men, all in their bunks, and, though roused by our entrance, they had no time to get their weapons before we had made them prisoners. Then the seven were taken down to our boats under a strong guard, there to await our coming.
We were now ready for our work of destruction. Tearing out a half dozen places in the foundation of the building, we placed canisters of powder within them. From these long strings of oakum, well saturated with oil, were carried to the center of the house. Here a huge pile of combustibles was made, oil was spread on walls and floors and stairs, the front windows were darkened to hide the flames from that side, a rear window was left open for draft—and all was ready.
Sending the men off to the yawls, the lieutenant and I knelt down, and with flint and steel started a blaze in the heap of combustibles. Watching it until sure the fire was really kindled, we slipped out the door and ran for the cove.
There we halted and fastened our eyes upon the burning building. Through the rear door and window we could see the flames as they gained headway. Across the floor, up the walls they ran, and streaming out through the openings threw a great glare upon the dark curtain of the night. It was clear our work had been well done, and the structure was doomed. Then Lieutenant Haines turned to his prisoners, saying:
“Good sirs, we leave you here simply because we have no room for you in the boats. Possibly the nearest frigate will send a boat for you; if not, you will be no more exposed to the gale than we are. One word of warning to you, however. We have placed six kegs of powder in yonder walls. It will, therefore, be well for you to keep a long distance from the fire. Good-night,” and with that he gave the order for us to embark.
Our plan for the return was to keep near the shore until opposite Sullivan Island, then dash quickly to the south to enter the upper bay through the passage between Morris and Sullivan Islands. This course would enable us to run before the wind for a large part of the way, would keep us out of the glare of the burning building, and would also make it impossible for the enemy to follow us except in small boats.