lying off the Isle of Kent now," said the
old waterman in answer to my question, "but we can walk all around her
in this boat."

"Then we will start immediately," I replied, and placing my things on
board we were soon under way.

The wind caught our sails; we stood out into the bay gloriously, and
she fairly flew through the water. As we rounded the Isle of Kent we
saw, lying almost in our track, the English man-of-war, lazily rolling
with the tide.

Then there was a great bustle on board, and the sailors flew to the
rigging, the sails filled with the wind, and through the port hole was
run the ugly muzzle of a Long Tom. The waterman with me laughed
merrily.

"They think they can stop us," said he, but he never altered his
course.

So we bore down on her until there came a flash; a cannon ball came
ricochetting across the water, but fell short by a hundred yards.

The waterman chuckled. "That is about the right distance," said he;
and the boat answering the helm, fairly danced around his Majesty's
representative, always, by a saving grace, just beyond cannon shot.

And when his Majesty's ship actually gave chase and sent a broadside
after our impertinent piece of baggage the waterman fairly danced with
delight and led her a merry chase down the bay until we were opposite
Annapolis. Then with a flirt of her sail we bade them good-bye and ran
for the mouth of the Severn. Gaining that, we soon passed the charred
hulk of the Peggy Stewart and ran up beside the wharf, and I found
myself walking the streets of that gay little capital.

It was growing somewhat late, but I made my way at once to the State
House, where the Convention of the Freemen of the Province sat, hoping
still to find them at their deliberations. I paused for the moment
when I came to the foot of the knoll on which the State House stands,
for it had only recently been completed, and was the noblest building
in America. Its massive proportions towered high above me, overawing
the town at its feet, and commanding the country for miles around. But
it was not a time for halting. Hurrying up the long flights of steps,
I found myself in the great lobby, with its lofty ceilings and its air
of vastness.

The Convention had adjourned but a short time before, and the lobby
was still filled with men. As I threaded my way through them my dusty
uniform and muddy boots marked me out as a bearer of despatches.

"News from the army--victory or defeat?" cried