bound, was dragged on board a man-of-war as a lawful prize.

"Here are the protections," said Captain Tilton, handing the
papers to the Englishman.

The men were, one by one, examined, to see if the descriptions
corresponded with their persons. They were found to correspond
exactly.

The officer was not to be easily balked of his prey. Turning
suddenly to one of them, a weather-beaten, case-hardened old tar,
who wore a queue, and whose name was borne on the shipping paper
as Harry Johnson, he sternly asked, "How long is it since you
left His Majesty's service?"

The poor fellow turned pale as death. He lifted his hand to his
hat, in a most anti-republican style, and stammered out something
indistinctly.

"'Tis of no use, Johnson," exclaimed the officer. "I see how it
is; and we must be better acquainted. Your protection was
obtained by perjury. Get ready to go in the boat."

In vain Captain Tilton represented that Johnson was sailing under
the American flag; that he had the usual certificate of being an
American citizen; that his vessel was already short manned,
considering the peculiar character of the cargo, and if his crew
should be reduced, he might find himself unable to manage the
brig in heavy weather, which there was reason to expect at that
season in the latitude of the West Indies.