ered about her, as she sped along, as if they too were interested in the good cause and were urging her on. Thus she bounded joyously along, with a hundred stout hearts aboard her, until the captain found that the wind was fair for Whitehaven, which, as you will remember, was the port from which little John Paul sailed to Virginia, nineteen years before. So he decided to deal a mighty blow to Whitehaven.
At midnight on April 26, 1778, under cover of the darkness, he sailed, with two small boats, into the harbor. Against the black sky the tall masts of a hundred merchant ships rose like shadowy spectres. Not a sound could be heard except the gentle splashing of the oars, as the two little boats, with Paul Jones standing in the foremost, approached the landing. As the men stepped ashore, the first pale light of dawn told them they had not a moment to lose. The little band crept stealthily up a rocky hill, to where an old fort was located, and after a little resistance from the sur-
