“You may make light of it,” the captain said, “but it’s a dangerous business, look at it as you will.  Well, if you go through it safely, Captain Walsham, you will be the hero of this campaign.”

Late in the afternoon the tide turned, and the vessels began to drift up the river.  The four sailors had, of course, mentioned to their comrades the service upon which they were about to be engaged.  The captain had not thought it necessary to enjoin secrecy upon them, for there was no communication with the shore, no fear of the knowledge spreading beyond the ship; besides, the boat had to be damaged, and this alone would tell the sailors, when she was lowered in the water, that she was intended to be captured.

A marine was called up to where the captain’s gig was hanging from the davits.  James pointed out a spot just below the waterline, and the man, standing a yard or two away, fired at it, the ball making a hole through both sides of the boat.  Another shot was fired two or three inches higher, and the four holes were then plugged up with oakum.

All was now in readiness for the attempt.  James dined with Captain Peters, the first lieutenant and four officers of the general’s staff being also present, General Wolfe himself being too ill to be at table, and Admiral Holmes having, early in the morning, gone down the river to confer with Admiral Saunders.

“I drink good health and a safe return to you, Captain Walsham, for our sake as well as yours.  As a general thing, when an officer is chosen for dangerous service, he is an object of envy by all his comrades; but, for once, I do not think anyone on board would care to undertake your mission.”

“Why, sir, your little midshipman is delighted at going with me.  He and I have been chatting the matter over, and he is in the highest glee.”

“Ah!  He has only got the first chance of being shot at,” Captain Peters said.  “That comes in the line of duty, and I hope there isn’t an officer on board a ship but would volunteer, at once, for that service.  But your real danger only begins when his ends.

“By the way,” he asked, as, after dinner was over, he was walking up and down the quarterdeck, talking to James, “have you and Lieutenant Horton met before?  I thought you seemed to know each other when I came up, but, since then I have noticed that, while all the other officers of the ship have been chatting with you, he has kept aloof.”

“We knew each other at home, sir,” James said, “but we were never very good friends.  Our acquaintanceship commenced, when we were boys, with a fight.  I got the best of it, and Horton has never, I think, quite forgiven me.”

“I don’t like the young fellow,” Captain Peters said shortly.  “I know he was not popular in the Thetis, and they say he showed the white feather out in the East.  I wouldn’t have had him on board, but the first lord asked me, as a personal favour, to take him.  I have had no reason to complain of him, since he joined, but I know that he is no more popular, among my other officers, than he was in the Thetis.”