The young captain paced the quarter-deck alone--no man is ever so much alone among his fellows as the commander of a ship--a prey to his own sad thoughts. Those who had known him the gayest of gay young sailors in Philadelphia were at a loss to account for the change which had come over him. He had become the gravest of the grave, his cheery laugh was heard no more, and the baffled young belles of Charleston had voted him a confirmed woman-hater; though his melancholy, handsome face, graceful person, distinguished bearing, and high station might have enabled him to pick and choose where he would. But there was room in his heart for no more passions. Even his love of country and liberty had degenerated into a slow, cold hate for the British, and a desperate resolve to do his duty, and make his animosity tell when he struck. A dangerous man under whom to sail, gentleman of the Randolph, and a dangerous man to meet, as well. He could not forget Kate, and, except in the distraction of a combat, life was a mere mechanical routine for him. But because he had been well trained he went through it well--biding his time. CHAPTER XXXI _Seymour's Desperate Resolution_ Six rather uneventful days passed by, during which prizes to the number of five fell to the lot of the squadron, one loaded with military stores, and another with provisions of great value. The lively little Fair American, being far to windward of the fleet, had also a smart action with a heavily armed British privateer, which struck her flag before the others could get within range, and was found to be loaded with valuable portable goods, the siftings of a long and successful cruise. Young Wilton had manoeuvred and fought his ship well, and had been publicly complimented in general orders by Seymour for skill and gallantry. The fleet had been exercised in signals and in various simple evolutions, the weather was most pleasant, the men in excellent spirits, and all that was necessary to complete their happiness was the appearance of the looked-for squadron of the enemy. The eager lookouts swept the seas unweariedly, but in vain, until early in the afternoon of the sixth day, the fleet being in Longitude 58 degrees 18 minutes West, Latitude 14 degrees 30 minutes North, about forty leagues east of Martinique, heading due west on the starboard tack, it was reported to Seymour, who was reading in the cabin, that the Fair American, again far in the lead and somewhat to windward, had signalled a large sail ahead. A short time should make her visible, if the vessels continued on the present course, and, after having called his fleet about him by signal, Seymour stood on for a nearer look at the stranger. An hour later she was visible from the deck of the Randolph, a very large ship, evidently a man-of-war under easy sail. The careful watchers could count three tiers of guns through the glass, which proclaimed her a ship of the line.