It is scarcely necessary to detail the occurrences of that celebrated cruize. Success appeared to follow us wherever we went. After our escape from the man-of-war,—which we subsequently learned to be the Solebay, mounting twenty-eight guns—we ran farther eastward, and soon fell in with several prizes. One morning, however, our look-out detected a strange frigate hovering upon the sea-board, nor was it long before we discovered her to be an enemy. We made her out, by the aid of our glasses, to be a light frigate, pierced for sixteen guns on a side. Every rag that would draw was instantly set. With equal alacrity the stranger followed our example, and a running fight was commenced, which lasted nearly the whole day; for our daring leader, finding that we could easily outsail the enemy, kept just out of range of her guns, so that, although she maintained a constant fire, every shot fell short. Toward night-fall, however, we gave full rein to our gallant craft, and, to the astonishment and chagrin of the Englishman, left him hull down in a few hours. After hauling aboard our tacks, we ran up toward Canseau, and for some time inflicted serious damage upon the enemy’s fishermen, around the coast of Nova Scotia. Having finally captured no less than sixteen sail, some of them very valuable, we left the scene of our late exploits, and swept down the coast toward Montauk. It was a cloudless afternoon when we made Block Island, and, as the sun set behind its solitary outline, tinting the sky with a thousand varied dyes, and prolonging the shadow of the coast along the deep, we beheld a small schooner, close-hauled, opening around the northern extremity of the island. In less than a half hour she was close to windward of us. As it was the first friendly craft we had seen for weeks, we were all naturally anxious to learn the state of affairs on land. Paul Jones himself leaped into the rigging and hailed, “Ahoy! what craft is that?” “The Mary Ann of Newport,” answered a nasal voice from the low deck of the stranger, “what vessel air you?” “The Providence continental sloop—come to under our lee and send a boat aboard.” “Ay, ay, sir!” answered the same voice, but in an altered tone, and with the ready alacrity of a true seaman, “round her to, boys; but may be,” continued he, again addressing us, “you hain’t heerd the news yet. I calculate it’ll make the British think we Yankees ain’t to be made slaves of arter all—_independence is declared_.” “What!—the Congress declared itself independent of Great Britain?” asked Paul Jones, quickly.