Читать книгу Paul Jones онлайн

19 страница из 28

“I think it is a British frigate, sir,” replied Paul Jones, after looking intently at her. “She is too small for a ship of the line, and she does not carry sail enough for a merchant vessel with a good wind. She is simply cruising about, and probably looking for us.”

The Cabot being in the lead, night signals were made to her to engage the attention of the stranger, which had tacked, and was now making straight for the American squadron. Paul Jones then, as first lieutenant, saw the captain’s orders carried out to clear the Alfred for action as quietly as possible. No drums were beat, and the men went silently to their quarters. The batteries were lighted up, but by keeping the ports closed as little was shown as possible. A string of battle lanterns was laid in a row on the gun deck by little Danny Dixon, who wagged his head knowingly at Bill Green, who happened to be passing, and remarked:

“I say, Mr. Green, there will be some prize money for we arter this.”

“No, there won’t,” answered Bill, gruffly. “This ’ere commodore, he ain’t got a very good appetite for fightin’. Now, if Mr. Jones was commandin’—”