Jack had no notion whatever of drinking the King's health, but he was at his wits' end how to avoid it. Just then, though, the Captain turned to speak to his orderly, and Jack took the opportunity of gulping down his wine with more haste than elegance. Captain Moore, seeing it, was surprised and disgusted at the boy's apparent greediness for wine, but raising his glass, said, "To the King." "Excuse me, sir," answered Jack, coolly, "but my father never allows me to drink but one glass of wine, and that I have already had." "Then I will drink the toast alone," said Captain Moore, with a stern look at the boy. "Here is to his Majesty King George. Health and long life to him! God save the King!" As Captain Moore uttered this sentiment Jack rose and promptly put on his hat. The Captain was quite sure that the boy's action, like his gulping down the wine, meant a distaste for the King, and not a want of breeding. But he thought it best not to notice the incident, and said, civilly, to his young guest: "Present my compliments to your honored father, and tell him that his Majesty's officers have the kindest feelings toward these misguided people; and while if attacked we will certainly defend ourselves, we have strict orders to avoid a conflict if possible, and not to fire until fired upon." "I will remember your message, sir," was Jack's answer; and the Captain, having no further excuse for detaining his young guest, allowed him to depart. He was soon alongside of the _Priscilla_, and there, standing at the gangway, was the sloop's master, Jerry O'Brien. Jerry, by an accident of fate, had inherited an Irish name, but he was as arrant a Yankee as ever stepped. He was a handsome fellow withal, and in his natty blue suit much more resembled the Captain of an armed cruiser than the master of a smart merchant vessel. The _Priscilla_, too, was a wonderful contrast to the slovenly merchantmen around her. She was as clean as hands could make her, and her beautiful lines were brought out by the shining coat of black paint upon her hull. Her men were smart and seamanlike. Jerry O'Brien was the most exacting ship-master on that coast, but he never had any trouble in shipping men, for, while making them do their work with the quickness and steadiness of man-o'-war's men, he used neither blows nor curses. A natural leader of men, he made himself respected first, and after that it is always easy to command obedience. As soon as Jack Leverett came over the side Jerry took him to the cabin. Jack produced a letter, and by the heat from a ship's lantern some writing in lemon juice was deciphered. It contained a full account of the affairs at Lexington and Concord, of which only vague rumors had reached Machias. At every sentence descriptive of American valor Jerry would give a half-suppressed whoop, and at the end he could not forbear letting out a huzza that made the little cabin ring.