did announce them, carried them out
with cool but unfaltering speed.

On the evening of October 24, Hamilton invited all the officers not on
actual duty to dine in his cabin. The scene may be easily pictured.
The captain at the head of his table, the merry officers on either
side, the jest, the laughter, the toasts; nobody there but the silent,
meditative captain dreaming of the daring deed to be that night
attempted. When dinner was over, and the officers alone, with a
gesture Hamilton arrested the attention of the party, and explained in
a few grim sentences his purpose. The little party of brave men about
him listened eagerly and with kindling eyes. "We'll stand by you,
captain," said one. "We'll all follow you," said another. Hamilton
bade his officers follow him at once to the quarter-deck. A roll of
the drum called the men instantly to quarters, and, when the officers
reported every man at his station, they were all sent aft to where, on
the break of the quarter-deck, the captain waited.

It was night, starless and black, but a couple of lanterns shed a few
broken rays on the massed seamen with their wondering, upturned faces,
and the tall figure of the silent captain. Hamilton explained in a
dozen curt sentences that they must run into port for supplies; that if
they left their station some more fortunate ship would have the glory
of taking the _Hermione_. "Our only chance, lads," he added, "is to
cut her out to-night!" As that sentence, with a keen ring on its last
word, swept over the attentive sailors, they made the natural response,
a sudden growling cheer. "I lead you myself," added Hamilton,
whereupon came another cheer; "and here are the orders for the six
boats to be employed, with the names of the officers and men."
Instantly the crews were mustered, while the officers, standing in a
cluster round the captain, heard the details of the expedition. Every
seaman was to be dressed in blue, without a patch of white visible; the
password was "Britannia," the answer "Ireland"--Hamilton himself being
an Irishman.

By half-past seven the boats were actually hoisted out and lowered, the
men armed and in their places, and each little crew instructed as to
the exact part it was to play in the exciting drama. The orders given
were curiously minute. The launch, for example, was to board on the
starboard bow, but three of its men, before boarding, were first to cut
the bower cable, for which purpose a