At the next moment Tom Coxswain stood at the wheel of the "Royal
George"--the Briton who had guarded, a corpse at his feet. The hatches
were down. The ship was in possession of the "Repudiator's" crew. They
were busy in her rigging, bending her sails to carry her out of
the harbor. The well-known heave of the men at the windlass woke up
Kempenfelt in his state-cabin. We know, or rather do not know, the
result; for who can tell by whom the lower-deck ports of the brave ship
were opened, and how the haughty prisoners below sunk the ship and its
conquerors rather than yield her as a prize to the Republic!
Only Tom Coxswain escaped of victors and vanquished. His tale was told
to his Captain and to Congress, but Washington forbade its publication;
and it was but lately that the faithful seaman told it to me, his
grandson, on his hundred-and-fifteenth birthday.
A PLAN FOR A PRIZE NOVEL.
IN A LETTER FROM THE EMINENT DRAMATIST BROWN TO THE EMINENT NOVELIST
SNOOKS.
"CAFE DES AVEUGLES.
"MY DEAR SNOOKS,--I am on the look-out here for materials for original
comedies such as those lately produced at your theatre; and, in the
course of my studies, I have found something, my dear Snooks, which
I think will suit your book. You are bringing, I see, your admirable
novel, 'The Mysteries of May Fair,' to an end--(by the way, the scene,
in the 200th number, between the Duke, his Grandmother, and the Jesuit
Butler, is one of the most harrowing and exciting I ever read)--and, of
course, you must turn your real genius to some other channel; and we may
expect that your pen shall not be idle.
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