Master Hackett spent considerable time with us two lads while we were in port awaiting the enemy; but, after the conversation lately set down, he did not indulge in any speculations which might arouse disagreeable thoughts in our minds. Perhaps he understood that, confined in the dark hold, we would quite naturally give ourselves more wholly up to reflection and foreboding than would be possible on the gun-deck, and brooding over possible dangers while we were thus virtually alone would cause them to seem greater than they really were. Whatever may have been his motive, I noted with satisfaction the fact that he spoke in a more cheery strain of the expected action, and on one or two occasions even went so far as to predict that the _Essex_ would live to carry the stars and stripes around the Horn again. Both Phil and I had come to believe that when the Britishers did arrive to give us battle, he and I would be forced to remain below, guarding our prisoner, and again and again we questioned the wisdom of setting two to watch one when the frigate was really short-handed. Despite the cowardly thoughts which we realized would come into our minds as soon as an engagement was begun, we were sad because there seemed to be no chance we should bear our share of it. It would have pleased both of us very decidedly if it could have been possible to sail the _Essex_ into a home port without a severe fight; but since one must come, we were eager to perform our full part, whatever might be the result, and this could not be done if we were forced to act as jailers. However, this, like many another trouble, was of slight consequence when the decisive moment arrived, as we soon learned. One morning when the men were beginning to believe that the information regarding the Britishers having passed around Cape Horn was false, Master Hackett came below with every evidence of excitement on his face and in his movements. "The enemy are in the offin' at last!" he cried, slapping us two lads on the back as if believing he had brought most glorious news. "Can we see them from the deck?" Phil asked as he leaped toward the ladder, for it was my time of duty. "No, lad, not yet: but the _Junior_ is headin' for the harbor with signals set that she has sighted the enemy, an' it won't be very long now before we'll be showin' the _Phoebe_ what we're made of!" Having said this much Master Hackett went swiftly on deck again, and I was left with my own fears and Oliver Benson for company. I fully expected that he would try once more to persuade me into letting him escape, but fortunately for his own skin he said not a word, and I sat there silent and motionless, trying to picture my behavior in case it should by some lucky chance be possible for me to bear a hand in the action which seemed to be so near at hand.