Captain Tucker’s next move also seemed to confirm this view. Springing to his feet as though aroused by the splash, he called out excitedly:
“Quick, men! Put out your sweeps! You must save him! I’ll steer!”
He took the tiller from the bewildered soldier, and again cried out for the men to get out their oars.
In the excitement that followed—an excitement increased by the unfortunate officer’s calls for help, for his sword and pistols were weighing him down—the red-coats dropped their guns and put out the oars. They were awkward about it, however, and the Captain so managed the tiller that we were a few minutes in coming up with the struggling man. Those few minutes were enough for us, his comrades, to seize the discarded weapons. Dropping overboard all but five, we so placed ourselves that, when the British officer was drawn into the boat again, we were in command of it.
Under the stern orders of Captain Tucker, enforced by our loaded muskets, the discomfited soldiers pulled to the shore where they were disembarked.
“It cannot be far across the point to Canso, where you will find friends,” the Captain announced when they were on the beach. “Your boat and your provisions we shall need. Good-by,” and with a bow as polite as that the British jailer had given us a day or two before, he waved his hand for us to pull the craft out to sea.
Early in the afternoon the breeze sprang up again, and we headed the sloop down the coast, homeward bound, for after some discussion we decided to run the risk of a voyage in the open boat to Boston.
In the month of August the sea is usually light and the weather serene from Nova Scotia to Massachusetts Bay. We found it so now, and on the seventeenth arrived in port without mishap.
Bidding good-bye to our comrades, the Captain and I repaired to Marblehead, where we awaited the further orders of the Naval Committee. But two months later Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, and the war for the independence of the Colonies was over.
The navy, therefore, no longer needed us, and we resigned our commissions to go back to the foreign trade. For several years the Captain ran a large ship to French and Spanish ports, on which I served as first mate. Then I was given command of a brig in the East India trade and the Captain and I did not see each other for some years.