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Next morning the marines were landed, a large quantity of arms and stores were captured and embarked, and the squadron set sail for home.

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The morning of the 9th of April dawned clear and lovely. The American squadron, on its return from New Providence, was making its way cautiously along the New England coast, and although every part of it was swarming with British vessels, it was determined to take the squadron into Long Island Sound by the way of Narragansett Bay.

Paul Jones went about his arduous duties as first lieutenant with his usual steady determination, but at heart he cherished a secret dissatisfaction. His bold and enterprising spirit was not adapted to submission. He could obey, but his destiny was to command. Commodore Hopkins was a brave man, but he was not above the average in either enterprise or intelligence. Several strategic mistakes that he made during the affair at New Providence had not escaped the searching eye of Paul Jones, and he felt a dread of encountering the British then, for fear that the American commodore would not be equal to so great an occasion. He knew that they would have to run the gauntlet of Commodore Wallace’s fleet off Newport, and his brave heart trembled at the idea that all of glory possible would not be reaped.