His hail was given through his trumpet, and no answer came during a full half minute, while the schooner sped nearer. Then suddenly a storm of exclamations arose from the men, and Brackett groaned aloud. "Just what old Watts was afraid of!" he exclaimed. "He's a gone man! So are all of us! The rebel flag! Guns!" The _Noank_ was indeed flying the stars and stripes now, instead of the red-cross flag of England. The old sail amidships had been jerked away, and there stood Up-na-tan, with one hand upon the breech of his long eighteen and the other holding a lighted lanyard ready to touch her off. Open at the same moment went the three starboard ports, and out ran the noses of the dangerous six-pounders. "Heave to, or I'll sink ye!" came fiercely down the wind. "Surrender, or I'll send ye to the bottom!" "It's no use, Captain Watts," said Brackett, dolefully; "she carries too many guns for us. We may as well give up." "Men!" shouted the captain, "what do you say? Are you with me? Shall we fight it out? I'm ready!" "Not a man of us, captain," sturdily responded one of the crew. "This 'ere isn't nothin' but a supply ship. We ain't bound as if 'twas a man-o'-war. No use, either." "Brackett," said Watts, "you may haul down the flag, then. I won't. I call you all to witness that I've done my duty! Mate, the rebels won't shoot you. Report me dead to Captain Milliard of the _Cleopatra_. He ordered me to run in through the sound against my will." "I'll give a good report of you," hurriedly responded the mate, while other and not unwilling hands hauled down the flag; "but that long eighteen alone would be too much for our popguns." The two ships were now near enough for grappling, and in a few minutes more they were side by side upon the quiet sea. "I surrender to you, sir," said Captain Watts to Captain Avery, as the latter sprang on board, followed by a swarm of brawny whalemen. "I claim good treatment for my men, whatever you may do to me." "I know you, sir," said Avery, sternly. "You are Watts, the Marblehead Tory. Step aft with me. There's an account to settle with you. Sam Prentice, look out for the prisoners. Vine, get ready to cast off and head for New London. Send 'em all below--" "All but some of 'em," said Sam, with a broad grin. "Men! Every 'pressed American step out!" No less than nine of the _Windsor's_ crew obeyed that order, while all the rest sullenly surrendered their useless weapons to Coco and Guert Ten Eyck and a couple of sailors who were ordered to receive them. Not on deck, fore or aft, but down in the cabin did the skipper of the captured supply ship give his account of himself and his cargo. Hardly was the cabin door shut behind them before Captain Avery laughed aloud, inquiring:-- "Now, Luke Watts, how did ye make it out! They'll hang ye, yet." [Illustration: THE MARBLEHEAD TORY. "'Now, Luke Watts! they'll hang ye yet,' said Captain Avery."]