Besides all this, he knew that in the commission that he held from Franklin he possessed a talisman that would save him from personal danger. It had been his hope that he might fall in with one of the transports then engaged in carrying Hessian troops to America, and in the latter case he had decided upon two alternatives: one to make a prize of their vessel, even at the risk of recapture, and endeavor to get her into some American port, or to land them disarmed on the coast of France or Holland. But even the prospect of making another rich haul did not tempt him to remain longer on the cruising grounds. So, under all the sail he could carry, he laid his course for Dunkirk, the Prince of Orange staggering along in his wake. That night it came on to blow, and in the darkness the two vessels were separated, so that at daylight of the next day nothing could be seen of the prize. The Channel was a gray, seething mass of flattened foam-tops. At about noon a little brig was discovered laboring along making to the westward. The Surprise altered her course, and early in the afternoon had ranged alongside. The wind was too high and the cross seas too boisterous to admit of lowering a boat, and the hails that were shouted through the speaking-trumpet could not be heard, so a shot was fired across the brig’s bow in order to make her show her flag. It was English! As soon as this was ascertained to be a fact, Captain Conyngham sailed boldly in under her lee, and once more the rattlesnake and the red and white stripes were tossed to the wind. Another hail, accompanied by a second shot across the brig’s bows, and she hove to, lurching and plunging. By working his vessel in still closer, even at the danger of colliding, Conyngham at last made himself understood, and on the threat of blowing the brig out of the water her captain obeyed the order to put her about and lay the course he was instructed to. At the same time he was told to hang a lantern over the stern and keep it lit all night. Then, like a constable following an unwilling prisoner, the Surprise trailed along, shortening sail in order to keep her position, and the brig, yawing and swinging uncomfortably as if loath to be on the move, preceded her. Before dark the wind had gone down and the sea abated enough for Conyngham to lower a boat and board his prize. She proved to be the Joseph, the property of English merchants, laden with silks and wine and bound for London. Placing a prize crew on board of her, this time the Surprise took the lead, and sailing noticeably better, the brig followed her. When day broke they were but a few leagues off the coast to the northward of Dunkirk, and to Conyngham’s delight he perceived a small vessel just to the south of him, and through the glass he could make her out to be the captured packet!