as dreaming of
danger, his men silently pulled away from the _Ranger_ in two boats, one
commanded by himself and the other by Lieutenant Wallingford. It was a
long pull, and when they reached the outer pier of the harbor it was
beginning to grow light in the east. They now parted company, and Jones
directed his men to row for the south side of the harbor, while the
Lieutenant was to make for the north shore. The object of the two was
the same: the burning of the shipping.

Wallingford reached the north side, and then, strangely enough, gave up
the attempt, his reason being that the candle on which he counted to
start the fire was blown out. The reader must remember that in those
days matches were unknown and the task of relighting had to be done with
the steel, flint and tinder. Though the contrivance is an awkward one,
we cannot help thinking the excuse of the Lieutenant was weak, but the
result was a failure on his part to carry out the important work
assigned to him.

Captain Jones was a different kind of man. Although day had fully
dawned, he kept his men rowing rapidly. Reaching the south side of the
harbor, he came upon a small fort garrisoned by a few soldiers. Leaping
out of the boat, the American dashed forward, bounded over the walls and
captured the sentinels before they knew their danger. The guns were
spiked and the garrison made prisoners.

"Set fire to the shipping!" he commanded to his men, while he, with only
a single companion, ran for a second fort some distance away and spiked
the guns in that. Then he hurried back to the first fort and found to
his surprise that the fire had not been started.

"The candles have given out," was the reply to his angry inquiry.

It being broad daylight, his men expected him to jump into the boat and
order them to return with all haste to the ship; but, instead of doing
so, he darted into one of the nearest houses, procured some tinder and
candles and began himself the work of destruction. Fixing his attention
upon a large vessel, he climbed quickly aboard and started a fire in her
steerage. To help matters, he flung a barrel of tar over the flames and
in a few minutes they were roaring fiercely. It meant prodigious damage,
for the vessel was surrounded by more than a hundred others, none of
which could move, since they were aground and the tide was out.

As may be supposed, there was great excitement by that time. The alarm
had been given. Men were running to and