There came a very black night toward the beginning of winter in the year 1777. A light wind blew in from the sea, carrying an unpleasant, chilly feeling among the people of the town of New London. They had previously been somewhat uncomfortable, for, during several days, there had been British men-of-war hovering along the coast. None of these had ventured in far enough to exchange shots with the forts, but there was a rumor, nobody knew where from, that the British had determined to seize the port and put an end to its notable services to the cause of American independence. The harbor forts were believed by their commanders to be in good fighting condition, and their garrisons at once received small reinforcements. The thing most to be feared, it was said, was the landing of a strong body of troops, for in that case the town itself would be assailed, as well as the forts. In short, military men foresaw and predicted precisely such an attack as was so destructively made at a later date by the king's forces under Arnold. Very dark was the night. Wakeful and watchful were the sentinels and guards at every battery. Moreover, boats were out, silently patrolling hither and thither, ready to run in and report whatever signs of danger they might discover. The sea-scouts could not be everywhere, however, nor could they see everything. Somehow or other, an exceedingly important arrival passed by them all in the darkness. A little before midnight a solitary musket shot rang out at the seaward bastion of Fort Griswold, and the officer of the guard, with a party of soldiers, hurried to the spot to ascertain its meaning. "Officer of the guard," responded the sentry to the formal hail, "two American lights, seaward. Flash, flash, and cover. There they are again." One of the soldiers was an old sailor, and he exclaimed:-- "Captain Havens, jest let me watch that there signal a minute." "Watch!" said the captain. Again the seaward flashes came, as if they were asking questions. "What is it--" "Captain Havens!" shouted the old whaling man, excitedly. "That there was Lyme Avery's private signal. The _Noank_ has come home! The other light was Joe Taber's, I guess. I've whaled it with both of 'em." "Hurrah!" burst from the captain. "Signal back, if you know how." "Shall we fire a gun, sir?" asked an artilleryman. "No," said the captain; "we won't stir up the town. And we won't send any information to the British cruisers, either. See Hadden work his lantern." The sailor was swinging the lantern given him,--this way, that way, up and down, and he was speedily replied to from the sea. "Two craft comin' in together," he explained. "I guess it's the _Noank_ and a prize."