“I have found the rebels’ nest, my lads. But one boat with its crew has escaped us, having gone back up the coast, to report the landing of the troops, I presume. The other is there, and intends to stay until morning to keep watch of Sir Henry’s movements. They are, however, too many for us, and we’ll, have to cross over to the camp for help. Later we’ll return and capture the whole bunch. Pull away.”

While he was talking his comrades had been getting the skiff ready for their departure, and his last words were uttered as he took his seat in the craft. Slowly it glided away towards the mainland, and, baffled in my attempt to obtain a prisoner, yet thankful I had discovered his design upon myself and men, I turned to retrace my steps to camp.

It was easy for me to conjecture the character of the departing men. They were Tories who had probably seen our boats go down the coast, and, suspecting our purpose, had followed. They would report our presence to the British commander, and he would send over a force before morning sufficient to capture us. It was clear that we must change our camp immediately.

I therefore quickened my pace, and soon rejoined my men, to whom I made known my discovery. Finding they had put off partaking of their supper until my return, I now gave orders for the meal to be eaten. Then we tore down our temporary structure, launched the boat, and proceeded with muffled oars up the shore to the northwestern corner of the island. Here we again landed, and simply carrying the boat up a few feet above tide water, turned it over, raised one side a few inches, and crawled under, making ourselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.

I chose this place for our second camp for two reasons. It was but a short distance above the spot where the force sent to capture us would be likely to land, and I argued that it was, therefore, the last place where the enemy would expect to find us; then, as it was on a narrow point, curving to the west and south, it would enable us not only to overlook the British encampment on the main shore, but to see the crossing and landing of the red-coats when they came in search of us. My choice, however, proved to be a disastrous one, at least for me.

It must have been near the midnight hour before we saw any movement which indicated the enemy were coming our way. All my men, with my permission, had gone to sleep except Boatswain Lewis, and it was he who at length called my attention to a few lights moving slowly down the edge of the narrow strait which separated us from the British encampment. We watched them, and in the flicker of their lanterns counted at least three score men as they embarked in four boats, and put out from the shore.

“They are coming in strong force,” I remarked to my comrade in a low tone. “They must count us desperate fellows.”

“We’d whip them now in a fair fight,” Master Lewis growled, “but to have that number come down on us when we weren’t looking for them is another thing. It’s lucky you discovered their plan, sir, and we got out of their way.”

“Two of the boats are coming up the strait,” I announced a moment later. “Can it be they are going to land here?”

“If so, we’ll have to run,” was the boatswain’s laconic comment.

All our attention was now given to these two boats, and in preparation for their possible landing I aroused my men. Rapidly and almost noiselessly the yawls came up towards us, but instead of attempting to land, they rounded the point and went on down the north side of the island.

Master Lewis nudged me. “See!” he exclaimed in a whisper. “They are sent down to cut off our escape from the water side. The red-coats don’t mean to give us a chance to get out of their clutches.”

“But look there, sir,” another of my men cried out almost aloud, and before I could answer Master Lewis. “The land force has divided, and a part of them are coming up this way!”

A single glance told me he was right. Upon landing, the enemy had separated into two squads, one going down through the woods, doubtless to approach our old camping place from the south and east sides; while the other was following the shore, to make an attack from the west. I immediately thought of Master Lewis’s declaration: “The red-coats don’t mean to give us a chance to get out of their clutches.” They certainly had planned to hem us in from all sides, and would succeed if we did not move promptly. So I gave the command:

“Quick, lads! Launch the boat! We must get away from here at once.”

They knew this as well as I did, and obeyed with alacrity. The next moment they had lifted the yawl and were carrying it down to the water’s edge. The boats of the enemy were already below us, and could we get off the shore before the land force discovered our proximity, there was still a chance for us to slip away unnoticed in the darkness. I believe we should have done it but for an accident.

It was quite dark, and in our haste we had no time to pick our way. One of my men struck against an obstacle, and stumbling, fell to the ground, pulling the boat and two or three of his companions down upon him. The mishap not only made a noise which reached the ears of the coming squad, but broke the unfortunate fellow’s leg. He struggled vainly to regain his feet, and then sank back with a groan.

But he did not forget the danger we were in. Had he done so, the yells of the red-coats as they quickened their steps to overhaul us, would have reminded him of it. Heroically he cried:

“Leave me, sir! There’s time for you and your men to escape.”

But that was a thing I would not do, even if we were all captured; and to their credit I will say there was not a man among us who would have done it. Instead six, at my order, picked up the boat and hurried to the water with it, while the others raised their injured comrade and hastened after them. I closely followed.

The steps of the coming British sounded dangerously near, but we worked calmly. The yawl was launched; the suffering sailor was laid gently in her; the men took their places; and all but Boatswain Lewis and myself had embarked.

“Step in, sir,” he said. “I’ll push the craft off.”

“No,” I commanded, “get in yourself. It is my place to be the last.”

I said this, for I knew the enemy were almost upon us, and hoped to save my men, if not myself. He obeyed, just as a pair of stout hands clutched my shoulders and their owner cried:

“Not so fast, my young gander; we’ll keep you with us a while longer, I reckon.”

I did not attempt to resist him. I spent all my strength to push off the yawl with my feet. A vigorous kick sent her gliding off from the shore.

“Away, lads!” I shouted. “You know where to go and what to do,” and then I was borne down to the ground, and at least a half dozen red-coats held me down.

Several of the squad followed our boat into the water in their zeal to capture it, but my men were too quick for them, and rowed it beyond their reach. Then the Britishers hallooed for their own boats to return, and give chase to ours. By this time they had allowed me to regain my feet, and I again called out:

“Never mind me, lads! Make good your own escape, and finish the work I have left undone.”

“Aye! aye! sir!” came the answer across the water, and I knew Boatswain Lewis had heard and understood my command and would complete the task assigned to me of reporting the movements of the British army.

I received a blow across my mouth from the officer in charge of the squad for my act, accompanied with the surly words:

“Shut your mouth, you young puppy! But for your kick and bark we might have captured your boat and crew. I only hope the General will regard you as a spy and hang you to the nearest tree.”

His boats had come back up the shore, and now at his order went on in the darkness, hoping to overhaul my comrades—a thing I am glad to say they were not able to do. He then despatched a messenger down the island to intercept and recall the other land force. These matters attended to, he surrounded me with his men and marched off to the place where he had landed. When the other squad rejoined him, he gave the command to return to the camp. There I was placed in a tent, in use as a temporary guardhouse, and surrounded with soldiers who kept watch over me until morning. At an early hour they carried me into the presence of General Clinton.

“So you are the Yankee spy my men captured last night?” he demanded sternly.

“I hardly see how you can call me that, sir,” I answered as pleasantly as I could. “I was not taken in your camp.”

“Do you deny that you were watching my movements in order to report them to the commander of the rebel forces?” he asked.

“No, sir; I do not,” I replied, “but I have not been inside of your lines, and have never intended to come inside of them. I am simply the commander of a boat sent out by our Commodore to watch your landing—an act I believe that makes me a prisoner of war now that I am so unfortunate as to be captured, but not a spy.”

“Who are you?” he now questioned.

“Midshipman Arthur Dunn, of the frigate Boston,” I responded, knowing of no reason why I should conceal my identity.

“Oh! ho!” was his quick ejaculation. “I believe there is another frigate on board of which they will be glad to see you. Since you have deserted her twice, you may not find it hard to recall her name. She will be in New York by the time I get back there. I am told her commander has an order from our Naval Board to hang you to the nearest yard-arm. So I’ll keep you and turn you over to him. He can do what I perhaps could not legitimately do.”

I was taken back to the guardhouse, where I was given a frugal breakfast, and then put under the care of an officer and six men, who were given strict commands to shoot me down at my first attempt to escape.

The troops were already breaking camp, and all day long I marched with them as they proceeded up the coast towards Charleston. At night, when they again went into camp, I was remanded to the guard tent, where, regardless of the number of men they put over me, I threw myself on the ground, and, worn and weary, sunk into a deep slumber. I was too tired to make any attempt to escape.

How long I slept I do not know, but I was awakened by hearing a voice, which I felt sure belonged to Lieutenant Haines, demanding an immediate entrance to my tent. His demand to my surprise was quickly granted, and the next instant he stood before me, clad, as I could see by the light which came through the doorway from an adjacent campfire, in the uniform of an English officer. Holding up his hand to check the exclamation which had risen to my lips, he said sternly:

“Young man, the General wishes to see you at once. Follow me!”

I arose and followed him out by the guards, who made no attempt to stop us. Once in the open air, he quickly led me into the shadow of some trees, and whispered in my ear:

“Not a word, now, sir. I’ll explain everything later. Put on these clothes over your own,” and he took from the bosom of his own coat the uniform of a British soldier. It took me but a minute or two to comply with his request, and, having donned the disguise, I stalked along after him towards the nearest outposts.