As Decatur felt obliged to return to his ship, Somers went with him, and saying good-by to the officers on the Constitution, with the hope that the little midshipman would get off from the commodore’s wrath, the two friends were soon pulling across the placid harbor. The last rays of the sun were reflected on the water, turning it all red and gold, while in the sky a pale opaline glow still lingered.
The two friends had only been separated a few weeks, but they had much to talk about. At dinner, as they sat opposite each other in the cabin, with a hanging lamp between, Decatur, who was overflowing with spirits, noticed that Somers was more than usually grave.
“What ails you, man?” cried Decatur. “Those lantern jaws of yours have not opened with a smile since we left the flagship. Are you disappointed about anything?”
“Yes,” answered Somers, continuing his dinner with a very rueful countenance. “_You_ will be the one to go upon the Philadelphia expedition. The rest of us will have to hang on to our anchors, while you are doing the thing we all want to do.”
“How do you know about that?” asked Decatur, with sparkling eyes and a brilliant smile.
“Oh,” answered Somers, resignedly, pushing his plate away, “I had a presentiment as soon as you went down in the commodore’s cabin. Here are the rest of us, who have been wanting to speak of this thing for weeks, and watching each other like hawks, but all afraid to beard the lion in his den; when you, with your cool impudence, just arrived, never saw the commodore in your life before, _you_ go and plump out what you want at your first interview, and get it too. Oh, I guessed the whole business as soon as I saw you come out of the cabin!”
“You are too prudent by half, Dick,” cried Decatur, laughing at Somers’s long face. “Now, if I had taken your advice about prudence I never would have got the better of you. The commodore, too, has enough and to spare of prudence—that beggarly virtue. When I offered to go into the harbor of Tripoli with the Argus and bring the Philadelphia out, he said No, she must be destroyed, as it would be too risky to attempt to cut her out. Think of the misery of old Bainbridge and his men when they look out and see this beauty of a ship lying at the mole, with a gang of Tripolitan pirates at work on her!”