Master Blinn returned in a short time with an order from Captain Tucker, putting me in temporary charge of the vessel, and directing me to first send her crew and passengers to the Boston for safe keeping, and then, since it was nearly night, to tack ship and follow the frigate on her course until morning.
At dawn a change was made in my ship’s company. Midshipman Blinn was recalled to the Boston, and Midshipman LeMoyne was substituted in his place, to act as my executive. Philip Mohyes, a quartermaster, was also sent over to be my second officer. With him came six new men, increasing my crew to fifteen. Master LeMoyne brought with him the following letter:
“On board the Boston Frigate.
March the 11th, 1778.
To Midshipman Arthur Dunn:
Gentleman—You are now appointed to the command of the ship Martha. I desire you would make the best of your way to Boston, running up your longitude in 37° north as far as 68° west. Be careful to avoid all vessels you may see, keeping a man at the masthead from daybreak until dark, and if you should be so unfortunate as to be taken, destroy my letters with your signals. If you go safe, lodge my signals at the Navy Board, not showing them to your nearest friend. Be very certain of your lights—to show none in any respect. When you arrive, acquaint the Honorable Board of every instance that has happened in my passage, and I desire you would be as attentive to the ship in port as at sea. Keep regular orders, as you would at sea, and the men under the same subjection. Other orders are to yourself discretionary in defending the ship.
Your well-wisher,
Samuel Tucker,
Commanding.”
As rapidly as possible I made my arrangements for a departure, and soon signalled the frigate that I was ready to sail. A salute of seven guns was fired, and then with every stitch of canvas set I bore away west-north-west to reach the latitude assigned me, and along which I was to make my way home.
Three days passed without special incident. We reached the thirty-seventh parallel, and proceeded westward. Once or twice we caught sight of distant sails, but if they saw us they did not think we were worth the chasing. So when the sun went down on the third night after we had parted from the frigate our log showed we had made four hundred knots and all was well.
All was well when the sun set; all was not so well when the sun arose; for there, not over two miles away, was an English frigate of thirty-two guns, and a few minutes of watching revealed that she was fast overhauling us.
I could not then, nor can I after all these years, discover any reason why we were to blame for the dilemma in which we now found ourselves. I had strictly obeyed the orders which Captain Tucker had given me. We had carried no lights during the night, and it could not therefore have been these that had attracted the attention of the enemy, and led him to pursue us. It was clearly one of those cases of happen so, over which we have no control. The Britisher had happened to be cruising in that locality; the dawn had disclosed our proximity, and she had given chase.