The elder man led his companion a little farther up the dock and pointed out a schooner. "See! there is the ship for you, my boy; look at her! Isn't she a model?" She was certainly a beautiful sight as she hoisted her mainsail and jib and glided off under a breeze so light that the large ships hardly stirred, with all their sails set. "She has started." "Ay, ay; but we can catch her at the Narrows. I like you, and I want you to ship with me. Will you do so?" "I--don't know--I----" "Come along; you shall have a warm welcome on board the _Lively Bee_." "Is that schooner the famed privateer?" "Yes; I have a _lettre de marque_ from the government. We shall fight, but if we are taken prisoners we shall be hanged. On the one hand I promise you plenty of fighting and lots of prize money, on the other there is the risk of being hanged." "I will go with you." "I knew you would. I came ashore purposely to meet you." "To meet me? You do not know me." "Don't I? Then perhaps I have made a mistake. I thought you were John Tempest----" "That is my name; but how did you know me, and why did you want me?" "You will ship with me?" "I will." "Give me your hand. We shall be comrades in many a fight. I am Captain Harry Vernon of the _Lively Bee_." CHAPTER II. THE DEPARTURE. Out in the bay the American fleet was preparing to depart. Commodore Rodgers had just heard of the declaration of war, and he was afraid that the order to detain him in the harbor would be signed and delivered to him before he could start. He called Captains Bainbridge and Stewart and Porter to the flagship and asked abruptly: "How long before you can sail?" "Ready now, sir," was Stewart's answer. Rodgers was blunt and always spared himself words. "Do you want to fight on the high seas or skulk like old hulks in the harbor?" he asked, and added quickly: "You need not answer. I know you well. Go back, get ready; we will start within an hour, and once outside the Narrows, no President's order can reach us." The captains swung themselves over the side and were rowed back to their vessels. It was a pretty sight. Those "wooden walls" of Columbia, in all the bravery of trimly taut rigging, yards crossed in mathematically precise order, hulls newly painted, ports open to reveal the lines of frowning guns, presented a sight which was enough to rouse the enthusiasm of every patriot on land. The fleet under the command of Commodore Rodgers consisted of the flagship _President_, carrying forty-four guns; the _Essex_, thirty-two, and the _Hornet_, eighteen. These three vessels were anchored off the Battery, but they did not comprise the entire fleet, for over against what is now Liberty Island were three more, the _United States_, mounting forty-four guns, a sister-ship to the _President_; the _Congress_, thirty-eight, and the _Argus_, sixteen. Fifty minutes only elapsed after the conference on the flagship before the entire fleet was under sail.