as came to the mind of a man who had been sailing so near the wind.

I forgot to relate one part of the adventure. Before we had got fairly
clear of the woods, we fell in with four of Forsyth's men, notoriously the
wickedest corps in the army. These fellows began to crack their jokes at
the expense of the two females, and we came near having a brush with them.
When we spoke of our pistols, and of our determination to use them, before
we would let our convoy come to harm, these chaps laughed at our pop-guns,
and told us they had such things as 'rifles.' This was true enough, and
had we come to broadsides, I make no doubt they would have knocked us over
like so many snipes. I began to reason with them, on the impropriety of
offending respectable females; and one of the fellows, who was a kind of
corporal, or something of that sort, shook my hand, said I was right, and
offered to be friends. So we spliced the main-brace, and parted. Glad
enough was the lady to be rid of them so easily. In these squalls she
would bring up in her tears, and then when all went smooth again, she
would break out afresh.

After quitting the light, we made the best of our way for the town. Just
as we reached it, we fell in with a party of soldier-officers, and we
turned the lady and her woman over to their care. These gentlemen said a
good word in our favour, and here we parted company with our convoy, never
hearing, or seeing, anything of either afterwards.

By this time it was near dark, and Bill Southard and I began to look out
for the Scourge. She was anchored in the river, with the rest of the
fleet, and we went down upon a wharf to make a signal for a boat. On the
way we saw a woman crying before a watch-maker's shop, and a party of
Forsyth's close by. On enquiry, we learned these fellows had threatened to
rob her shop. We had been such defenders of the sex, that we could not