ketch bade good-by to their friends and set out on their perilous
mission.

The night was clear and starlit, and at nine o'clock the ketch was in
full view of the city and its twinkling lights, with the dark shores
crowded with batteries, while far ahead, under the guns of the Bashaw's
castle, lay the _Philadelphia_. The wind fell and the little craft crept
slowly through the water, seemingly into the very jaws of death, until
the outlines of the silent frigate loomed to sight through the gloom.
Following Decatur's guarded orders, the men lay flat on the deck, all
concealing themselves as best they could, while five or six, dressed as
Maltese sailors, lounged about in plain sight.

The quartermaster at the wheel, obeying the directions of Decatur,
steered so as to foul the _Philadelphia_, from which there suddenly came
a hail. Lieutenant Decatur whispered to the pilot to say they had just
arrived from Malta, and, having lost their anchor, wished to make fast
to the _Philadelphia's_ cables until another could be got from shore. A
brief conversation followed, during which the ketch edged closer, but
the Tripolitans soon discovered the men in the stargleam, and the alarm
was sounded; but with great coolness and haste the ketch was worked into
position and Decatur gave the order to board.

The eager Americans, with cutlass and boarding pike in hand, dashed
through the gun ports and over the bulwarks. In a twinkling the quarter
deck was cleared and all the Tripolitans on the forecastle were rushed
overboard. The noise brought up a number of Turks from below, but the
moment they saw what was going on they either leaped into the sea or hid
themselves in the hold. They were pursued, and within ten minutes the
frigate was captured, without a shot having been fired or an outcry