"The prize crew who took charge of the vessel consisted of Lieutenant Stone, of the United States Navy, in command; a master's mate and twelve men, fourteen in all; with the American passenger, fifteen. The moment that Captain Wilson again stepped aboard his own vessel, he formed the resolution to recapture her and take her home. He was bold enough to think that it might be possible to recapture the ship even against such odds. An unarmed man, aided by the questionable support of a steward and a cook, was practically powerless against the fifteen of the crew. On the other hand, Captain Wilson was a brawny, big-framed Scotsman (a native of Dumfriesshire), a thorough seaman, determined in resolve, cool and prompt in action. He called the steward and the cook to him in his stateroom and disclosed the wild project he had formed. Both manfully promised to stand by their chief. This was at half past four on the morning of the 21st of March, the third day out from Charleston. Captain Wilson had already formed his plan of operations, and had prepared to a certain extent for carrying it out. With the promise of the cook and the steward secured, he lost no time, gave them no chance for their courage to evaporate, but proceeded at once in the darkness and silence of the night to carry out his desperate undertaking. He was prepared to lose his life or to have his ship; that was the simple alternative. "It was Lieutenant Stone's watch on deck, and the prize master's mate was asleep in his berth. The Scotch captain went into the berth, handed out the mate's sword and revolvers, clapped a gag made of a piece of wood and some marline between his teeth, seized his hands, which Montgomery, the steward, quickly ironed, and so left him secure. The lieutenant still paced the deck, undisturbed by a sound. Then across to another stateroom, where the American engineer lay asleep. He also was gagged and ironed silently and without disturbance. His revolvers and those already secured were given to the steward and the cook, who remained below in the cabin. Captain Wilson went on deck. "Lieutenant Stone was pacing the deck, and the watch consisted of one man at the helm, one at the lookout, on the forecastle, and three others who were about the ship. For ten minutes Captain Wilson walked up and down, remarking on the fair wind, and making believe that he had just turned out. The ship was off Cape Hatteras, midway of their journey between Charleston and Philadelphia, the most easterly projection of the land on that coast. It is difficult navigation thereabouts, with the cross currents and a tendency to fogs, affording the two captains subject for talk. "'Let her go free a bit, Captain Stone; you are too close to the cape. I tell you and I know.' "'We have plenty of offing,' replied the lieutenant; and then to the helmsman: 'How's her head?' "'Northeast and by east, sir,' came the reply. "'Keep her so. I tell you it is right,' said the lieutenant.