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He could hear whispered voices through the door, people moving about. He tried the handle. It was locked.

“I call to you again, sir. I am Lieutenant Fairfax of the United States Navy. I call upon you to open this door at once.”

Silence was his only answer. He hammered again o

n the door so that it shook in its frame. It did not open and there was still no response.

“The responsibility lies with you, Slidell. I am a military officer doing his duty. I have orders to follow and follow them I will.”

When there was still no response Fairfax turned and stamped angrily away, the midshipman scurrying ahead as he went back on deck. A group of passengers had come on deck as well and stared at him as he crossed to the rail and leaned over to shout his orders down to the boat.

“Sergeant — I want your men up here at once. All of them.”

“I protest!” Captain Moir called out.

“Noted,” Fairfax said turning his back on the man, treating the captain just as he had been treated.

Heavy boots slammed on the decking as the blue-clad marines scrambled aboard.

“Right shoulder… shift!” the sergeant bellowed and the muskets slammed into position.

“Sergeant, have your men fix their bayonets,” was Fairfax’s next command. He needed as strong a show of force as possible, hoping to avoid any untoward incidents this way. The sergeant shouted the commands and sharp steel glittered in the sunlight. The watching sailors shuffled back at the sight of it: even the captain was silent now. Only the Southern passengers who had now come on deck displayed their feelings.

“Pirates!” one of the men shouted as he shook his fist. “Murderous Yankee bastards.” Others joined the shouting and started forward.

“Stop there!” Lieutenant Fairfax ordered. “Sergeant — have your men prepare to fire if these people get any closer.”

This threat damped down the Southern enthusiasm. There were muttered complaints as they moved slowly back from the leveled bayonets. Fairfax nodded.

“See you stay that way. I’ll take the corporal and two men below, Sergeant.”

Marine boots thundered on the steps, stamped down the passageway. Fairfax led them forward, pointed to the cabin door.

“Use your musket butt, Corporal. Don’t break it down yet — but I damn well want them to know that we are here.”

Once, twice, thrice, the butt slammed thunderously on the thin wood before Fairfax waved him aside, called out loudly.

“I have armed marines here and they will do their duty if this door is not unlocked at once. I understand there are women in there so I do not wish to use violence. But I will use force to enter this cabin — if the door is not unsealed instantly. The choice is yours.”

The heavy breathing of the waiting men was the only sound to break the silence. Fairfax felt his patience was at an end and had just opened his mouth to give the order when there was a rattling at the door. It opened a scant inch — then stopped.

“Ready your weapons,” Fairfax ordered. “Use them only if we meet resistance. Follow me.” He threw the door wide and went in. Halted abruptly at the sound of the shrill screaming.

“Stop right there!” the angry woman called out, holding the three girls to her ample bosom. A boy was at her side, shivering with fear.

“I mean you no harm,” Fairfax said. The screaming died away to mournful sobbing. “Are you Mrs. Slidell?” Her answer was only a quick, angry nod. He looked about the luxurious cabin, saw the other door and pointed toward it. “It is your husband I wish to address. Is he there?”

John Slidell had his ear pressed hard against the panel in the door. He turned as there was a soft knock on the door across the cabin from him that led to the companionway. He hurried to it, whispered hoarsely.

“Yes?”

“It’s us, John — unlock this thing at once.”

Mason pushed his way in, Eustin and Macfarland hurrying after him. “What is happening?” Mason asked.

“They are inside with my family. A naval officer, armed marines, we delayed them as long as we could. The papers…?”

“Are in safe hands. Your delaying action was vital for our one small victory in this battle at sea. The Mail Officer, a retired Royal Navy commander as I told you, has taken the papers under his personal control. Locked them away and says he will not take out the key to his safe until he sees England’s shores. He even said that threat of death itself would not sway him. Our papers are as safe as the letters in the Royal Mail.”