_Chased by a Frigate_ Three days after the sinking of the Juno, the Mellish, which had escaped in the dark without pursuit from the fleet, after witnessing the successful termination of the action between the two sloops of war, was heading about northwest-by-west for Massachusetts Bay and Boston, with single reefs in her topsails and close hauled on the starboard tack.

Seymour's orders had left him sufficient discretion as to his destination, but Boston being the nearest harbor held by the Americans, he had deemed it best to try to make that port rather than incur further risk of recapture by making the longer voyage to Philadelphia.
The weather had turned cloudy and cold; there was a decided touch of winter in the air.

The men were muffled up in their pea-jackets, and the little squad of prisoners, tramping up and down, taking exercise and air under a strong guard, looked decidedly uncomfortable, not to say disgusted, with the situation.
It had been a matter of some difficulty to disarm the prisoners, especially the soldiers, and to feed and properly exercise them; but the end had been successfully arrived at through the prudence and ability of Seymour, who was well aided by Talbot and Wilton, and who profited much by many valuable suggestions born of the long experience of the old boatswain.
On this particular afternoon, about ten days before Christmas, the young captain, now confident of carrying his prize into the harbor, felt very much relieved and elated by his apparent command of the situation.

He knew what a godsend the ship's cargo, which he and Talbot had ascertained to be even more valuable than had been represented, would be to the American army.

It might be said without exaggeration, that the success of the great cause depended upon the fortune of that one little ship under his command.