An epidemic of throat-clearing broke out among the captains. They shuffled their feet and studied the rough boards on which they sat.

“Now, then,” Arnold said, “we’ve lost the Philadelphia. Captain Rice tells me she sank half an hour ago. And we’ve been so unfortunate as to lose the Royal Savage”—he glanced quickly at Hawley’s rigid face—“in spite of Captain Hawley’s effort to retake her. A brave effort, Captain Hawley: a brave effort against heavy odds.”

Hawley made a strangled noise in his throat and cast a pitiful glance at Wigglesworth, who sat beside him. Wigglesworth nodded soberly and said, “Good work.”

“From the appearance of things,” Arnold said, “they were a little more lavish in their attentions to General Waterbury and this vessel than to some of the others; but none of us were overlooked, I suspect.” He hesitated. “Captain Reed of the New York sends me word that all his officers were killed, and Captain Warner and Captain Grant have a few splinters in them, but the rest of us didn’t do so badly. Not so badly. What’s your situation, General?”

Waterbury tried to straighten up. The effort made him groan. “Bad! Captain Thatcher’s seriously wounded and the sailing master, too. My first lieutenant and three others are killed. I’ve got a twelve-pounder through my mainmast and God knows how many through the hull. My sails are shot to pieces, so far as I can see.”

Arnold disposed of Waterbury’s troubles. “I’ll give you Captain Hawley. He’ll get sail on her if she’s got a rag to set.”

Hawley laughed abruptly. “I guess we can get some on her somehow.”

Arnold nodded. “Yes, that’s right! Get some on her, even if you have to use the men’s breeches for sails, because we’re going to move.”

Feet clattered on the companionway, and Tom Bickford’s face appeared. “Fog!” he said. “It’s drifted so thick we can’t see the Indian fires on the island.” He vanished.

“There you are!” Arnold cried. “Just what we need! I take it there’s none of you anxious to stay where we are!” He opened his mouth in a wide and silent laugh.

General Waterbury spoke sourly. “If we can go, we’d better. I don’t believe there’s a vessel in the fleet with fifty rounds left. I don’t believe I could fight two hours more—if it was the kind of fighting we did today.”

Arnold’s eyes, in that dark cabin, seemed to absorb most of the light from our tin lantern. “Look at that, now! Everything’s turning out just as it should! We’ve got a northerly breeze still, a fog to hide in, and there’s no moon till tomorrow. What’s more, none of us want to stay, and the British think they’ve got us bottled up!”