Solomon went forward on the starboard side, but saw nothing. As he looked over the gangway and bow, coming round on the lee side of the forecastle, he saw some canvas hanging on one of the night-heads. "What have we here?" said he. No one answered. He looked over the fore-chains, and found the whole lower studding-sail towing in the water. "No wonder she don't move," said the mate; "here is enough to stop the _Constitution_ herself. Who took in this here lower studding-sail?-- But, never mind, we'll settle that to-morrow. Come over here, you forecastle men." Some of the Americans came over to him, but not with very great alacrity. The sail could not be pulled in, as the vessel had too much way; and while they were ineffectually employed about it, the flash of a gun was seen to windward; and as the report reached our ears, the shot whistled over our heads, and, darted like lightning through the boom mainsail. "Hurrah for old England!" said Thompson; "the fellow that fired that shot shall drink my allowance of grog to-morrow." "Hold your tongue, you damned English rascal," said the second mate, "or I'll stop your grog for ever." "I don't think you will," said the North Briton, "and if you take a friend's advice, you won't try." Thompson was standing on the little round-house or poop; the indignant mate jumped up and collared him. Thompson disengaged him in the twinkling of an eye, and with one blow of his right hand in the pit of the man's stomach, sent him reeling over to leeward. He fell--caught at the boom-sheet--missed it, and tumbled into the sea, from whence he rose no more. All was now confusion. "A man overboard!"--another shot from the frigate--another and another in quick succession. The fate of the man was forgotten in the general panic. One shot cut the aftermost main-shroud; another went through the boat on the booms. The frigate was evidently very near us. The men all rushed down to seize their bags and chests; the captain took me by the hand, and said, "Sir, I surrender myself to you, and give you leave now to act as you think proper." "Thompson," said I, "let go the main-sheet and the main-brace." Running forward myself, I let go the main-tack, and bowlines; the main yard came square of itself. Thompson got a lantern, which he held up on the starboard quarter. The frigate passed close under the stern, showing a beautiful pale side, with a fine tier of guns; and, hailing us, desired to know what vessel it was. I replied that it was the _True-blooded Yankee_, of Boston--that she had hove-to and surrendered. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. "It is not," says Blake, "the business of a seaman to mind state affairs, but to hinder foreigners from fooling us." Dr Johnson's "LIFE OF BLAKE."