"Aye, aye, sir!" came back the response.

"What boat is that?"

"A boat from his majesty's ship the _Sea-Wing._ We wish to come aboard
your vessel."

When the captain asked them their business, they frankly confessed that
they were deserters and had been secreted all day on the island watching
an opportunity to reach the American brig.

Their story was a probable one, and the captain and his officers
believed it. A rope was tossed to them, and in a few moments five
stalwart jack tars in the uniform of the British Navy stood on the deck.

One tall, fine-looking seaman, who was every inch a gentleman, and whose
conversation was evidence of education and refinement, told their story.

Three of them were Americans, and two were Swedes. They had been seized
by the press gang and made slaves on board the frigate.

"It has been many years," said the tall sailor, "since I saw my native
land. I am a native of Hartford, Connecticut."

"Why didn't you escape sooner?" the Captain asked.

"Escape, captain, is no easy matter, and is attended with serious
consequences. They usually hang one who tries to desert. I am a gunner,
by profession, and but for the fact they need my services against the