All the crew but six well-disguised men were hidden below or stretched out on deck in the shadow of the bulwarks, as soon as the city’s lights came well in view, and with a failing wind the ketch thereafter drifted toward the great hulk of the _Philadelphia_, which was soon brought plainly in view in the moonlight. Her ports were aglow with lights, and her crew were seen to be at least awake if not alert. Drawing near at about 10 o’clock, the pilot, at Decatur’s order, steered the ketch so as to foul the _Philadelphia’s_ rigging at the bowsprit. Then a sentinel hailed the ketch. The Malta pilot replied that the ketch had lost all her anchors during the gale and wished to make fast to the cables of the _Philadelphia_ until others could be procured on shore. Then an officer asked what brig was off shore, for he had seen the _Siren_ in spite of precautions. The pilot replied that it was the English war-brig _Transfer_, which had been purchased at Malta for the Tripolitans and, fortunately, was due to arrive. As the pilot talked, many of the Tripolitans gathered at the _Philadelphia’s_ rail and ports to peer over at the ketch. So when, at last, the chains at the _Philadelphia’s_ bow were almost within grasp the wind failed, and the next instant a cat’s-paw caught the ketch aback; she began to drift toward the broadside of the big ship, where all these Tripolitans would have a fair view of her deck. It was a moment of great peril, but without the least flurry two of the disguised sailors got into a small boat and carried a line to a ring-bolt on the man-o’-war’s bow. Then the disguised men on board the ketch began hauling in, while those lying in the shadow of the bulwarks, trusting to the depth of the shadow, lent their aid by hauling hand over fist as they lay there. Meantime the Tripolitans had sent a small boat with a line by which they intended to swing the ketch astern of the _Philadelphia_, but the Yankees in the small boat, with great presence of mind, took it from them and carried it to the ketch, “to save the gentlemen the trouble,” as they explained in broken Maltese. During all this time the pilot had been entertaining the Tripolitan officer with a high-colored description of the ketch’s cargo--had really entertained him until the men hauling on the bow line had brought the ketch within ten yards of the big ship, when unhappily the tension on the line from the stern drew the ketch broadside on to the _Philadelphia_, where the eyes of the idle spectators could fall on the men who were lying on the ketch’s deck eagerly hauling in on the bow line. One fair look was enough, and in an instant the ship was resounding with the cry, “Americano! Americano!”