One of the ragged seamen shouted, “You done well your own self, Ginral!”

Cap Huff herded a handful of his marines to the rear of the tattered group. “What was it he said?” he bawled. “Hey, General, tell these fellers of mine! They got to be encouraged!”

Arnold laughed. “They don’t need it! All they need is something to shoot at!”

The ragged group cackled and drank their rum. Their eyes glittered and were restless. They scrambled back to the guns, whose explosions, now that the Carleton had escaped, seemed labored; more disgruntled.

I turned to look shoreward again. The boats which carried the Royal Savage’s crew had separated, one heading for the Washington galley: the other holding a course that would bring her under our counter. The boatmen were rowing raggedly. Their heads were turned, not toward us, but astern; toward the rocky, pine-clad shores from which they had come. Something, I knew, had threatened them.

I called to Tom Bickford to man the shoreward guns. Arnold came to stand beside me, scanning the dense growth of spruces that rose like massed spears above the brown rocks.

From halfway up a tall spruce a jet of smoke puffed out, turned a pale blue and vanished. Our shoreward bow gun let off with a bellowing cough. As if the gun had released a spring on shore, a dusky, reddish figure popped out from behind a tree. Near him appeared another: then two more. They seemed enormous; too large, almost, for men, and the color of animals: of sleek young bucks. They capered and made gestures, and suddenly were gone, like demons dissolving into thin air. We heard faint, wailing howls—howls vaguely like those of a lynx, squalling in the night from hunger or frustrated love.

Arnold spat over the side and eyed me slyly. “I was afraid those hellions wouldn’t show themselves.”

“Afraid?” I asked. “Afraid?”

“Listen!” he said. We listened, and again we heard those distant quavering howls: howls whose shrillness seemed to set insects crawling behind my ears.

He jerked his head toward the sound. “Nobody’ll ever leave this fight of his own free will, not while those gentlemen are co-hooping and co-hopping around on shore!”

He was still in a good humor when Captain Hawley, followed by Nathaniel and a dozen members of the crew of the Royal Savage, clambered over the side and came aft to report. They were draggled and dirty, but unwounded. Not wishing to make an exhibition of myself or embarrass Nathaniel, I said nothing to him: merely eyed him severely when he winked at me, looking mightily pleased with himself.

Arnold sent the men forward to report to Cap Huff: then turned a hard eye on Hawley. “Well, you weren’t much help to us.”

Hawley shook his head. Being behind him, I could see his hands were locked together, and his thumbs digging at his palms. He felt badly: no doubt of that.