in the tops of the British
vessel cried out,--

"That is surely Tucker; we shall have a devil of a smell directly."

Hearing this, Tucker ordered the American flag hoisted, and the ports
thrown open. Hailing his astonished foe, he cried,--

"The time I proposed talking with you is ended. This is the 'Boston,'
frigate. I am Samuel Tucker, but no rebel. Fire, or strike your flag."

The Englishman saw he had no alternative but to strike. This he did
without firing a gun. The vessel, though not named in the anecdote,
was probably the "Pole," of the capture of which Tucker frequently
speaks in his letters.

Of the part Tucker played in the siege of Charleston, of his capture
there by the British, and of his exchange, we shall speak later. At
that disaster four American frigates were lost: so many of the best
naval officers were thrown out of employment. Among them was Tucker;
but ever anxious for active service, he obtained the sloop-of-war
"Thorn," which he himself had captured, and went out as a privateer.
In this vessel he saw some sharp service. One engagement was thus
described to Mr. Sheppard by a marine named Everett who was on
board:--

"We had been cruising about three weeks when we fell in with an
English packet of twenty-two guns and one hundred men. Not long after
she was discovered, the commodore called up his crew, and said, 'She
means to fight us; and if we go alongside like men, she is ours in
thirty minutes, but if we can't go as men we have no business here.'
He then told them he wanted no cowards on deck, and requested those
who were willing to fight to go down the starboard, and those who were
unwilling the larboard gangway. Every man and boy took the first,
signifying his willingness to meet the enemy.

"As Mr. Everett was passing by, the commodore asked him,--

"'Are you willing to go alongside of her?'

"'Yes, sir,' was the reply.

"In mentioning this conversation, however, Mr. Everett candidly
confessed, 'I did not tell him the truth, for I would rather have been
in my father's cornfield.'

"After the commanders of these two vessels, as they drew near, had
hailed each other in the customary way when ships meet at sea, the
captain of the English packet cried out roughly from the
quarter-deck,--

"'Haul down your colors, or I'll sink you!'

"'Ay, ay, sir; directly,' answered Tucker calmly. And he then ordered
the helmsman to steer the 'Thorn' right under the stern of the packet,
luff