He opened his eyes cautiously and saw the coxswain of the captain's gig of the _Alert_ standing over him, with a pistol in one hand and a big knife in the other. Farragut knew the man was a prisoner, and, seeing him armed, was positive something was wrong. "I shall be killed now," he thought, and closed his eyes again, lying very still. He dare not move. Expecting to feel the knife pierce to his heart every instant, he yet had sufficient control over himself to restrain his desire to call out. He opened his eyes slightly and saw the man move away. He was muttering to himself, and Farragut heard him say: "To-night! All are sleeping. Then for merry England." Farragut slipped out of his hammock and crept cautiously to the captain's cabin. Porter had dined well, and had drunk pretty deeply with his officers and guest. It was the custom in those days, and no one was considered a gentleman unless he could drink his two or three bottles of wine. Farragut shook the captain. "Hello! what is it?" "Hush! on your life, hush!" "What is it? David, what is the matter?" "Hush, captain; don't speak aloud. The men of the _Alert_ have got to the armory, and to-night are to mutiny!" "How do you know?" "Never mind now; but act at once, or it may be too late." Captain Porter did not like being aroused out of his sleep. Who does? But Porter was a man of action, and was awake in an instant. The captain was very strict about "fire drill," and was accustomed, so that his men might be ready for any emergency, to raise the cry of "Fire!" at all hours of the day or night, and often he caused a slight smoke to be created in the hold to try the nerves of his men. At the cry of "Fire!" every man seized his cutlass and blanket and went to quarters as though the ship were about to go into action. When he realized the import of Farragut's information, he ran on the deck and shouted: "Fire! fire!" In an instant the crew were at their quarters in perfect order, every man armed. The mutineers thought that a bad time for their project, and waited. But the captain was not satisfied. He paraded all the prisoners and ordered them searched. Nearly every man had some weapon concealed on his person. When these were taken away, the prisoners were ordered back to their quarters. And early on the following morning they were put on the _Alert_, and that vessel was sent to St. Johns as a cartel. The _Essex_ was saved by the vigilance of young Middie Farragut, and the records at Washington bear proof to the fact. When off the Maine coast the _Lively Bee_ bade adieu to the _Essex_, and started for the Penobscot, where she could be put in fighting trim again. "I wish you were going with us, Tempest," said Farragut. "So do I; but I cannot say I wish you were going with us." "Why not?" "The _Essex_ is a war ship, the _Lively Bee_ but a privateer," answered Tempest, sadly; for he still thought there was something of disgrace in being a privateer.