when I return, you can show me no authority for your
depredations upon American commerce, I shall hang you at the
yard-arm."

So saying, Bainbridge left the cabin. In fifteen minutes he returned,
and, throwing the cabin doors open, stepped in with a file of marines
at his heels. In his hand he held his watch, and he cast upon the Moor
a look of stern inquiry. Not a word was said, but the prisoner
understood the dread import of that glance. Nervously he began to
unbutton the voluminous waistcoats which encircled his body, and from
an inner pocket of the fifth drew forth a folded paper. It was a
commission directing him to make prizes of all American craft that
might come in his path. No more complete evidence of the treachery of
Morocco could be desired. Bainbridge sent the paper to Commodore
Preble, and, after stopping at Gibraltar a day or two, proceeded to
his assigned position off the harbor of Tripoli.

In the latter part of October, the lookout on the "Philadelphia" spied
a vessel running into the harbor, and the frigate straightway set out
in chase. The fugitive showed a clean pair of heels; and as the shots
from the bow-chasers failed to take effect, and the water was
continually shoaling before the frigate's bow, the helm was put hard
down, and the frigate began to come about. But just at that moment she
ran upon a shelving rock, and in an instant was hard and fast aground.

The Americans were then in a most dangerous predicament. The sound of
the firing had drawn a swarm of gunboats out of the harbor of Tripoli,
and they were fast bearing down upon the helpless frigate. Every
possible expedient was tried for the release of the ship, but to no
avail. At last the gunboats, discovering her helpless condition,
crowded so thick about her that there was no course open but to
strike. And so, after flooding the magazine, throwing overboard all
the small-arms, and knocking holes in the bottom of the ship,
Bainbridge reluctantly surrendered.

Hardly had the flag touched the deck, when the gunboats were
alongside. If the Americans expected civilized treatment, they were
sadly mistaken, for an undisciplined rabble came swarming over the
taffrail. Lockers and chests were broken open, storerooms ransacked,
officers and men stripped of all the articles of finery they were
wearing. It was a scene of unbridled pillage, in which the Tripolitan
officers were as active as their men. An officer being held fast in
the grasp of