Late one thick night the sound of oars was heard; the sentinel tried to fire off his gun at half-cock, and couldn't, when Captain Nutter sprung upon the parapet in the pitch darkness, and shouted, "Boat ahoyl" A musket-shot immediately embedded itself in the calf of his leg.

The Captain tumbled into the fort and the boat, which had probably come in search of water, pulled back to the frigate.
This was my grandfather's only exploit during the war.

That his prompt and bold conduct was instrumental in teaching the enemy the hopelessness of attempting to conquer such a people was among the firm beliefs of my boyhood.
At the time I came to Rivermouth my grandfather had retired from active pursuits, and was living at ease on his money, invested principally in shipping.

He had been a widower many years; a maiden sister, the aforesaid Miss Abigail, managing his household.

Miss Abigail also managed her brother, and her brother's servant, and the visitor at her brother's gate--not in a tyrannical spirit, but from a philanthropic desire to be useful to everybody.