In a few moments the splash of oars was heard, and a small boat drew out of the darkness to the starboard gangway of the Ranger. A man stood up in the stern sheets, and seizing the man ropes thrown to him climbed up on the deck. "Ah, Sir James," he commenced, taking off his hat, "how do you do? How dark you are! Why, what's all this?" he exclaimed in surprise and terror, as he made out the strange uniforms in the dim light. He hesitated a moment, and then stepped back hastily to the gangway, lifting his hand. "Seize him," cried a stern voice, "shoot him if he makes a sound." The captain of the unlucky schooner was soon dragged, struggling and astonished, to the break of the poop. "Oh, Sir James, what is the meaning of this outrage, sir, on a British ship-master? I shall report--" "Silence, sir, this is the American Continental ship Ranger, and you are a prisoner," replied the same voice. "Answer my questions now at once; your life depends on it. What are these ships to leeward?" "Sixteen merchantmen from London, to Halifax, under convoy of two men-of-war, sir." "And what are they?" "The Acasta, thirty-six, and the Juno, twenty-two, sir." "Very good; is the transport Mellish among them?" The man made no reply. "Answer me." "Ye--yes, sir." "Which is she?" "Oh, sir, I can't tell you that, sir; she is the most valuable ship of them all," he said incautiously. "You have got to tell me, my man, if you ever want to see daylight again; which is she?" "No, sir, I can't tell you," he replied obstinately. "Put the muzzle of your pistol to his forehead, Williams, and if he does not answer by the time I count ten, pull the trigger. One, two, three, four--" "Mercy, mercy," cried the frightened skipper, as he felt the cold barrel of the pistol pressed against his temple. "Eight, nine--" went on the voice in the darkness, imperturbably. "I'll tell, I'll tell." "Ah, I thought so; which one is she?" "The last one, sir." "And the Juno?" "The fourth from the rear; the frigate 's the first one, sir," he volunteered. "Oh, don't kill me, gentlemen." "Have you told me the truth, sirrah? Williams, keep your pistol there." "Oh, sir, yes, so help me; oh, gentlemen, for God's sake don't murder me. I've a wife and--" "Peace, you fool! We won't hurt you if you 've told the truth; you shall even be released presently and have your schooner again--we don't want her; but if you have lied to me, you shall hang from that yard-arm in the morning, as sure as my name is John Paul Jones." "O Lord!" said the now thoroughly frightened man, looking up and meeting the gaze of two eyes which gleamed in the dim light from the deck above him, "I 've told you the truth, sir."