Ethan and Dale plunged into the little court at the back of the place and found a single seaman guarding it with drawn cutlass. A quick rush together disposed of him, and in a moment they were upon the street, lurking in the shadows, and hearkening to the fierce conflict that raged within the room which they had just left. This lasted but a few moments, however; then the press-gang appeared, dragging in the midst of them the grim figure of the highwayman. “Caught!” breathed Ethan, despairingly. “Master Hatfield,” said Dale in a low voice, “has stopped his last traveler for many a long day, and is now in a fair way toward serving his king upon the sea.” CHAPTER XXIII HOW THE BON HOMME RICHARD MET THE SERAPIS Ethan Carlyle and his friend Richard Dale, after their experience with the press-gang, made it a point to keep themselves as much in the background as possible during the remainder of their stay in London. This latter was very much longer than they had expected; days grew into weeks and weeks into months, but still they found no means of crossing the narrow seas to France. Dale had little or no money, and Ethan’s supply had all but given out when, at length, they found a Scotch skipper who agreed to give them passage in his vessel. On the way across the two young men talked much about the future and of what they still hoped to do in the cause of liberty. “If it is my good fortune to fall in with Captain Paul Jones once more,” said Ethan, “I shall bless my lucky stars.” “That is a gallant sailor and an excellent commander,” spoke Richard Dale, admiringly. “I should like to serve under him.” Ethan had told Dale many times of the captain’s bravery, skill and splendid love of freedom; his tales had fired the young Virginian’s imagination to such an extent that he desired nothing better than to sail under such an able officer. “It’s a disappointment to him, I suppose,” continued Dale, “not to have recovered the dispatch.” “A very bitter one, indeed. And the fact that it was stolen while in his care makes it all the more so.” “There is a slim chance of its ever being recovered now,” said Dale. “I have thought a good deal about it since the impressment of that man, Dirk Hatfield,” answered Ethan. “And I fancy that the paper may not come under the eye of the British ministry in such a hurry, after all.” “What makes you think that?” “Well, in the first place, Hatfield would be forced to acknowledge himself a highwayman and tell how he came to have the dispatch in his possession.” “You forget that Danvers said that no questions would be asked the person handing it over to Lord North.” “I hold that saying in mind very well. But Hatfield would not trust to it; a hunted wolf has no confidence in the hunter, even though he have no weapon in his hands.” “What do you suppose, then, would be the man’s plan of action?”