As we drew near, I noticed the vessel's peculiar rig. She appeared light in the water, with long overhang fore and aft, and her masts raked backwards to the last degree. Her spars were long and tapering, and new, while her bulwarks appeared to have been built up to the height of a frigate's, showing that she was evidently some fast vessel altered and fitted up for the work Dunmore had planned on the river. Four ports cut in her broadsides held the black muzzles of her battery of light twelves, while on the forecastle was the pivot gun of heavier metal, which had been discharged at us a few minutes before. Men swarmed on her main deck and about her battery, while small knots stood with the sheets in hand ready for further orders. The man who had hailed us from the forecastle, and had fired without further warning, now stood at the starboard gangway, where a hanging companionway trailed in the water. He wore a shabby uniform, such as I had seen some of Dunmore's officers wear when doing their so-called patrol duty on the river. He was short and stout, with a red face, his shifty, fishy eyes looking like two little gray dots on either side of a nose that much resembled a boil. As we drew alongside he bawled out orders, the men hauled flat the head sheets, and instantly the schooner began to forge ahead. Some one threw a line and a man in the boat caught it, making her fast at the companionway, up which the officer in charge of us scrambled to the main deck. We were quickly sent aboard, followed by the boat's crew, and were lined up in the gangway between a file of soldiers, while the small boat was dropped astern to tow in the vessel's wake. CHAPTER V We were slightly bewildered at the rapidity and novelty of the events which were happening, and for some moments I stood and gazed at the hurrying men, who appeared to obey a man with a shrill whistle whose notes rose and fell with long undulations. No misunderstanding seemed possible, for each note appeared to mean an order, which sounded high above the rattle of the vessel's gear. I was something of a yachtsman, and took great interest until aware of the presence of the stout man with the red nose. He was in command of the schooner, and he now stood before us, gazing at us as if we were wild animals of an unknown kind. Two or three younger men in the group that gathered about us appeared to be officers, but I had never met any of them before, so they joined their captain in his curious gaze. Finally the Captain spoke. "Mr. Rose," he said, in a thick, raucous voice, "are these the men who fired on us?" "Yes, sir," replied our thin faced captor, holding the handkerchief containing our valuables in one hand, while he saluted with the other. "Then what d'ye mean by bringing them aboard this vessel, sir?" he roared. "Haven't I told you, sir, to shoot every rebel caught with arms on him? Hey! Answer me that, sir! Answer, or I'll break you sir!"