After spending a week in roving about the city, I heard a tremendous roaring of cannon in the harbor; it proceeded from the two frigates--which had dropped down from Hurl-gate and hauled up off the navy yard. What was more to my satisfaction, however, was the news that the Cartel had arrived and carried off the British crew, or, rather, the fragment that remained of them. Had I delayed my escape three days longer, instead of spending the rest of my days in America and in the American service, I should have been chained to the obnoxious discipline of the British navy. The reader may be assured that the narrowness of my escape very greatly enhanced the value I set upon my freedom. I now ventured on board the _Macedonian_ again to obtain my clothes. As I stepped on board, my mind misgave me, as Lieutenant Nicholson eyed me somewhat sternly; but I was reassured, when, kindly speaking, he informed me that the Cartel was gone, and I was safe. The sailors, also, congratulated me on my success in getting clear. The officers and crew were about to have a public dinner, and to visit the theatre in commemoration of their achievement. The sailors invited me to join them. To this I agreed. But overhauling my clothes, and contriving how I should appear as well as any shipmates, who were all going to have new suits for the occasion, the bright anchor buttons, which shone on my best suit, presented an insuperable objection. For how could I appear among them with the badge of the British service on my coat? This dilemma was removed, however, by the skill of my landlady, the widow, who very carefully covered the buttons with blue cloth. There was great excitement in New York, when the brave tars of the victorious _United States_, walked in triumphant procession through the streets, in the presence of countless citizens. First, came Captain Carden’s band, which had now shipped with Decatur; they were followed by the commodore and his officers, and these by the crew. At the City Hotel, all hands partook of a sumptuous dinner. This was followed by rather more than a usual amount of drinking, laughing, and talking; for as liquor was furnished in great abundance, the men could not resist the temptation to get drunk. As they left the room to go to the theatre, the poor plates on the sideboard proclaimed that “Jack was full three sheets in the wind.” Almost every one, as he passed, gave them a crack, crying out as they fell, “Save the pieces;” thus illustrating the old proverb, “When rum is in, wit is out.” The visit to the theatre passed off very much like the dinner, to wit, there was an abundance of shouting and cheering all the evening. After the close of the play, all hands scattered to see their friends, with orders to be on board next day. It was a week before they all returned.