eral days. After submitting to this wanton detention for two days,
Capt. Packwood of the brig went on board the "Liberty" to make a
protest to Capt. Reid, and at the same time to get some wearing
apparel taken from his cabin at the time his vessel had been captured.
On reaching the deck of the armed vessel, he found Capt. Reid absent,
and his request for his property was received with ridicule. Hot words
soon led to violence; and as Capt. Packwood stepped in to his boat to
return to his ship, he was fired at several times, none of the shots
taking effect.

[Illustration: Siege of Charleston, S.C., May, 1780.
Copyright, 1874, by Johnson, Wilson & Co.]

The news of this assault spread like wildfire in the little town. The
people congregated on the streets, demanding reparation. The
authorities sent a message to Capt. Reid, demanding that the man who
fired the shots be given up. Soon a boat came from the "Liberty,"
bringing a man who was handed over to the authorities as the culprit.
A brief examination into the case showed that the man was not the
guilty party, and that his surrender was a mere subterfuge. The people
then determined to be trifled with no longer, and made preparations to
take vengeance upon the insolent oppressors.

The work of preparation went on quietly; and by nightfall a large
number of men had agreed to assemble at a given signal, and march upon
the enemy. Neither the authorities of the town nor the officers on the
threatened vessel were given any intimation of the impending outbreak.
Yet the knots of men who stood talking earnestly on the street
corners, or looked significantly at the trim navy vessel lying in the
harbor, might have well given cause for suspicion.

That night, just as the dusk was deepening into dark, a crowd of men
marched down the street to a spot where a number of boats lay hidden
in the shadow of a wharf. Embarking in these silently, they bent to
the oars at the whispered word of command; and the boats were soon
gliding swiftly over the smooth, dark surface of the harbor, toward
the sloop-of-war. As they drew near, the cry of the lookout rang
out,--

"Boat ahoy!"

No answer. The boats, crowded with armed men, still advanced.

"Boat ahoy! Answer, or I'll fire."

And, receiving no response, the lookout gave the alarm, and the watch
came tumbling up, just in time to be driven below or disarmed by the
crowd of armed men that swarmed over the gunwale of the vessel. There
wa