The day before my departure from the ship, finding the commodore in good humor, I told him that I was a poor man and had a large family to support with my old sloop, that flour was worth only seven dollars per barrel in New-York, and was worth fourteen dollars in Boston, and that it would do him no harm to give me a passport to carry a cargo to Boston or neighboring ports. He paused for awhile, and then with a smile said, "You look like a pretty clever fellow, and if you go to New-York and take in a cargo, and come back here before I leave this station, which will be in about three weeks, I will then give you a passport. But if you attempt to run by me in the night, I shall make a prize of you." The next day my old sloop returned to the Ramillies with a quantity of beef on board. I made some complaint to the first lieutenant that the sailors had eaten up all my provisions and lost my lead-line, and hand-saw, &c. He remunerated me by giving me five times the value of what I had lost. I paid the commodore the ransom money, received their best wishes for a prosperous voyage, and departed. On my arrival in New-York I was much interrogated to know why I had not obtained a license from Commodore Hardy; to which I gave evasive answers. Congress having about this time passed some stringent laws requiring our vessels of war to overhaul and search all vessels bound to, or coming from an enemy's ship, I thought best to keep my own secrets. An acquaintance of mine called on me and asked me if I thought it safe to take a cargo to Boston or some of the Eastern ports. I told him if I were able to purchase one, I would try it. He told me to call on him in a short time, as he thought he could procure a freight for me. He soon obtained five hundred barrels of flour, and seventy barrels of bread, at one dollar per barrel for freightage, and three per cent commission for selling. I was to remit the proceeds by mail, or pay it to their correspondents in Boston.