"This course will bring us into the midst of the Yankee fleet in about twenty minutes," said Captain Column."I'm not at all afraid of the Yankee fleet," replied Somers."I'm not afraid of anything else," laughed the pilot."Where are the torpedoes?""Between us and Fort Morgan, which is only about a third of a mile distant, on our beam.""And the obstructions?""We have passed them; they are of no account. Captain, I think all your troubles are yet to come," said the pilot, as he glanced ahead."Why so?""If we should happen to plump into one of those monitors, a fifteen inch shot would finish this craft in less time than it would take to read a man's epitaph.""I have prepared for all such accidents. The Yankees will not fire on me.""No?" exclaimed the pilot, wonderingly."I think you don't know me.""I heard the first lieutenant say you were coming down here in one of the Yankee ships.""I did.""Did you, though?""We will come to anchor, pilot, when we get within hail of the Yankee squadron.""Come to anchor, sir?""Certainly; come to anchor, until the fog clears off, or we can get a little daylight. I don't want much.""Well, that beats me!" ejaculated Captain Column."I shall hoist The Yankee flag over the Confederate; then the Yankees will think this ship is a prize, and will not fire into her.""That beats me!" repeated the pilot."I came down here in a Yankee man-of-war, and I made the arrangements for carrying this thing through before I left her.""O, yes, I see!" laughed Captain Column. "You are playing them a Yankee trick.""Exactly so!""Capital! capital!" exclaimed the pilot.Fifteen minutes later, the Ben Lomond came to anchor under the lee of Sand Island, to wait for a favorable time to continue her voyage.CHAPTER XXIII.A YANKEE TRICK.The rebel officers and crew of the Ben Lomond were greatly astonished when the order was given to let go the anchor. They were not in a condition to appreciate the policy of stopping the wheels, and waiting for daylight within hail of the blockading squadron, reënforced as it had been for the attack on the forts; but as the captain had the reputation of being a perfect tiger, a fire-eater of the most ravenous sort, they did not venture to grumble or make any complaints.Captain Column, the pilot, chuckled, and declared it was all right; the commander knew what he was about, and would get the steamer out of the scrape without even a shot from the Yankee men-of-war.Somers had kept up his dignity and maintained his self-possession in the exciting scenes through which he had just passed; but it must not be thought that he was as easy in mind as he appeared to be. Every moment had been burdened with its own peculiar anxiety. The least slip, the slightest accident, would expose him andhis brave followers to great peril, if not to capture and death. He had won the day thus far by the mere force of impudence and self-possession; but it was not without a fear of failure, disgrace, and captivity.But everything, up to this time, had worked admirably. He had met and successfully turned aside the obstacles which beset him; and when the Ben Lomond came to anchor, the prospect looked more hopeful than at any previous hour. It was now about two o'clock in the morning. As there was nothing to do, he devoted an hour to an examination of the vessel, which had been fitted up at Mobile as a rebel cruiser. She had a heavy rifled pivot gun amidships, and four broadside guns, and was in every respect well provided for the work in which she was to engage.She was a vessel of about four hundred tons measurement, long, narrow, and very sharp. Her rig was that of a topsail schooner, and her smoke-stack raked with her masts. She was a beautiful craft, and no labor or expense had been spared to make her the fastest and most elegant vessel afloat.Even in the darkness, Somers could see enough of her shape and fittings to excite his admiration. He passed from the spar deck to the berth deck, where everything was in keeping with her appearance above. The ward-room was small, but it was comfortable and well arranged, and the captain's cabin was fitted up like that ofa royal yacht. Probably Mr. Pillgrim had spent some of his own money on these arrangements before she left the Clyde; but what contributed distinctly to make her a war steamer had been done after her arrival at Mobile.Somers was delighted with the arrangements of the prize, and as he examined the commander's cabin, he could not help envying the man who was permitted to occupy this sumptuous and convenient apartment; that is, if the stars and stripes floated at the peak above him, for he would rather have been a coal-heaver in a loyal ship, than in command of the Ben Lomond under the flag of the Confederacy.Mr. Swayne had conducted Somers over the vessel, and pointed out to him those features which were most worthy of notice."She is a splendid vessel," said the young commander, as they paused in the ward-room."Yes, sir; I am but too happy in being appointed to such a ship. If we only get clear of the Yankee squadron, we shall give a good account of her.""We shall have no quarrel with the Yankee ships," replied Somers, as he led the way to the spar deck again, for he was not disposed, just yet, to let Pillgrim and Langdon, who were confined there, hear his voice."Captain Pillgrim, you seem to be more confident on this point than your officers," replied Swayne, in a gentle tone, which more than insinuated that he would like to know more of the commander's plans.Somers was very anxious that he should know more of them, so as to prevent any suspicions which his subsequent course might excite."From what point did you expect me to come, before my arrival?" asked Somers."I had no idea. Mr. Langdon seemed to be familiar with all your movements, but he did not say much about them. He did remark, at one time, that you were coming down as second lieutenant of one of the Yankee men-of-war.""Did he, indeed? Well, he was a prudent man, and he will have his reward within a few days. Did he really say that?""He did.""I was deceived in him; he was not to be trusted. I placed every confidence in him. What else did he tell you?" asked Somers, artfully."Nothing else, sir. He said more to me than to any other officer, and hardly anything to me.""He has betrayed me.""He told only me that you were to come in a Yankee man-of-war.""Yes, he did; the pilot knew it—spoke to me of it; and very likely every man in the ship has the news. But, Mr. Swayne, the statement was true.""Mr. Langdon afterwards contradicted it, and said you were in Richmond, and were coming down by land.""Probably he thought he had made a blunder. I did come down in the Yankee ship, the Chatauqua. I am third lieutenant of her, not second. I was sent off by the captain, at my own suggestion, of course, to bring out this vessel. I have done it—haven't I?""You have," laughed Swayne. "Then you are expected by the Yankees?""Of course I am."The first lieutenant of the Ben Lomond indulged in a laugh highly complimentary to the skill and cleverness of his commander. Somers laughed with him. It was an excellent joke to both parties, though, like the Druid shield, it was seen from different points of view."Capital!" exclaimed Mr. Swayne, when he had evaporated the foam of his mirth."If the fog clears off, I shall let up some rockets, which will prevent the Yankees from firing at us. You understand?""I see, sir: you have the Yankee signals?" chuckled Mr. Swayne."Every one of them. No doubt they are on the lookout for me in every ship in the squadron.""Excellent, Captain Pillgrim. This is, by all odds, the best joke of the season.""Now, Mr. Swayne, you will hoist the Yankee flag over the Confederate.""I don't like to do that, captain," added Mr. Swayne, with a burst of patriotic enthusiasm."For a purpose, Mr. Swayne. Of course, when the men-of-war see that flag over the other, they will not fire. We shall run through the squadron, as though we belonged to it; and then—well, you will see what you will see.""Exactly so!" exclaimed Mr. Swayne, who seemed to enjoy the prospect exceedingly, even independent of his desire to flatter and "toady" to his commander.The flags were hoisted as Somers directed, and the "captain" for a couple of hours planked the deck in silence, impatiently waiting for the fog to lift, or for the daylight to come. It was his policy to anchor, because he was fearful that the steamer would run by the squadron, in the fog and darkness, and it would excite suspicion to return to the fleet, after safely passing through it. If Mr. Swayne had suspected any treachery, or that everything was not as it appeared to be, it would have gone hard with Somers and his men, for he could call in double the loyal force to assist him, besides releasing Pillgrim and Langdon.At four o'clock in the morning, the fog lifted, and Somers directed the rockets to be discharged, and the steamer to be got under way. Though anxious to keep up appearances, he quietly directed Tom Longstone to make as much delay as possible, and by some accident the messenger parted when the anchor was apeak, and it was necessary to do the work over again."Captain Pillgrim, what shall be done with the men who came on board with you?" asked Mr. Swayne, while the crew were walking round the capstan."What shall be done with them?" asked Somers, apparently not comprehending the meaning of the question."They are Yankees—are they not?""They are true men, Mr. Swayne. I selected them for this very duty, and I know them.""Excuse me, sir, I heard one of them singing a Yankee song, just now.""They have been in the habit of singing such songs lately; but they are true men, and will stand by me to the last. If I had wanted them, I might have brought off a hundred of the crew of the Chatauqua."Somers told a great many truths in the course of the night, for the purpose of deceiving the enemies of his country, which is a very anomalous duty for truth to perform.The anchor was at the hawse hole, was "catted and fished;" and the Ben Lomond moved on again, with the pilot on the bridge. As the fog lifted, and the daylight increased, the squadron of "Brave Old Salt" was seen by Somers and his companions. As he had promised, not a ship fired on the steamer, or offered to molest her. The first lieutenant, pilot, and other officers were entirely satisfied that everything was working in exact accordance with the plans of their "smart" commander, as they already called him.The exciting moment when all the delusion would be swept away, and the rebel officers and seamen find themselves prisoners, and their ship a prize, was at hand. Somers had already arranged his final movements with the boatswain, and certain of the men were instructed to perform particular parts in the closing scene of the drama."Now, Captain Column," said Somers to the pilot, "we must run down for the Chatauqua. She is the last vessel in the squadron, and if we appear to be moving towards her, nothing will be suspected.""Exactly so, captain," replied the pilot, shaking his fat sides with laughter at the Yankee trick which they were playing off upon the originators of this species of pleasantry."It is quite smooth this morning. The wind has all gone down. Run right under the quarter of the Chatauqua.""I can take her within six feet of the ship, if you like.""Not too close.""They will give us three cheers, won't they?" laughed the pilot."Very likely.""Port!" shouted the pilot, as the Ben Lomond approached the Chatauqua."Port!" yelled the quartermaster at the helm, at whose side stood Tom Longstone."Port!" repeated the pilot with greater energy, when he saw that the head of the steamer was swinging off from the Chatauqua."Port!" again responded the quartermaster."Starboard a little more," said Tom, in a low tone.Captain Column began to storm because the helm did not go to port as he ordered."Can't help it, sir. The tiller chains are jammed, sir," replied the quartermaster."Now hard a port!" said Tom Longstone."Starboard! Hard a starboard!" screamed the pilot, in tones of fury."Helm is jammed, sir!" returned the boatswain.At this moment the bells were rung to stop, and then to back the engine. To all but the half dozen loyal seamen who stood near the helm, everything seemed to be in confusion. The Ben Lomond ran up on the lee side of the Chatauqua, and stopped within a few feet of her. A stroke of the wheels and a turn of the helm brought her alongside, before the rebels could clearly apprehend the situation. The twenty-four men, with their revolvers and cutlasses, stood ready to check any demonstration on the part of officers or crew, but none was made. Their weapons were in the armory, and they suspected nothing till an instant before the steamer touched the ship's side.Conant, as instructed, leaped on board the Chatauqua, and reported Somers's wish to the officer of the deck.In another moment, the watch on deck of the man-of-war poured into the prize, and secured every officer and seaman. Then came the three rousing cheers which the pilot had expected, and the work was done.If ever a rebel was disappointed, disheartened, and disgusted, it was Mr. Swayne. He had been bewildered by the sudden change in the course of the steamer, and actually believed that it was caused by the wheel chains being jammed, until the watch from the Chatauqua poured in upon her decks."Well, Mr. Swayne, I suppose you are satisfied that I spoke the truth. The Yankees have not fired upon us; I came down in the Chatauqua; I was sent off to bring out this vessel; I have done it," said Somers."I had no suspicion you were a Yankee," replied the first lieutenant. "Where did you get your commission?""It was given me by Mr. Langdon and Mr. Pillgrim, both of whom are under guard below."Swayne used some expletives more forcible than polite, and Somers went on board the Chatauqua to report.CHAPTER XXIV.PILLGRIM AND LANGDON."I have the honor to report the capture of the Ben Lomond, otherwise the Tallapoosa," said Somers, as he advanced towards Mr. Hackleford, his face red with blushes, and his heart bounding with emotion.The first lieutenant of the Chatauqua had regarded his enterprise with a want of faith, to say the least; and when the young commander of the expedition came forward to report its entire success, there was something like pride and exultation in his manner, mingling not ungracefully with the manifestations of his natural modesty. He had done "a big thing;" he felt that he had done "a big thing;" and it would have been a ridiculous affectation for him to pretend, by word or manner, that he had not done "a big thing.""I congratulate you upon your success, Mr. Somers," replied Mr. Hackleford, warmly. "I was sceptical, I confess; but no man in the fleet is happier than I am at your good fortune.""Thank you, sir," said Somers, blushing more deeply than before, and almost wishing that the first lieutenant had done the "big thing" instead of himself, because he was so kind and generous in his commendation."You have managed the affair with skill and energy. For my own part, I did not believe you would even get into the bay, let alone capturing the vessel. I am astonished at your success, but none the less delighted because I am surprised.""Thank you, sir," was all Somers could say in reply to this praise so magnanimously bestowed."Captain Cascabel will see you, in his cabin, and we will hear your verbal report there."Mr. Garboard had already gone on board the prize, hauled her off from the ship, where she was chafing her sides, and moored her a cable's length distant. Somers went below, where he was as warmly and generously greeted by the captain as he had been by the first lieutenant. He related the story of his night's adventures to them with all necessary minuteness. His auditors could not help laughing when he told them what he had done with his old friends, the first lieutenant and the commander of the rebel craft. He had acted on his theory of Pillgrim's intended movements, and thus kept himself above suspicion."How does Mr. Pillgrim appear?" asked the captain."I haven't seen him, sir; I was very careful not tolet him see me. Mr. Swayne, the first lieutenant of the Ben Lomond, after I had disposed of Langdon, managed him for me.""It's a very amusing as well as a very exciting affair. But we must see these officers. Where are they?""Under guard in the state-rooms of the prize, sir.""Bring them on board, if you please, Mr. Somers. Get your breakfast first."Somers went to the ward-room, where he breakfasted with the officers off duty. He was cordially congratulated upon his success, though perhaps some of the mess regarded him as rather exclusive in permitting none of them to share his laurels.After breakfast the first cutter was cleared away, and Somers pulled to the prize in her. The Ben Lomond was temporarily in charge of the second lieutenant of the Chatauqua, who had secured the prisoners, and put everything in order on board. Somers went at once to the ward-room, where the two most important prisoners were confined. There were now at each door a couple of marines with loaded muskets, but no communication had been had with the solitary occupant of either.Pillgrim had several times attempted to obtain some information in regard to what was going on, but he was still in darkness. Even the bull's eye in his room could not have enlightened him, for it was on the starboard side of the steamer, while the Chatauqua lay on the port side.Somers ordered the marines to open the door of Langdon's room first, and the late first lieutenant of the Tallapoosa came forth."Lieutenant Wynkoop, I believe," said Somers, facetiously.Langdon looked at him with astonishment."Have you any more old sherry that has made two voyages to India?""This is hardly magnanimous, Mr. Somers," said Langdon, coldly."Perhaps not; but when officers stoop to such tricks as those you have practised, there can be no great harm in mentioning them.""Mr. Somers, I find myself somewhat bewildered.""I dare say," laughed Somers. "Very likely your friend Pillgrim, or Coles, is in the same situation.""Is he on board?""He is.""I have not seen him since he left Philadelphia in the Chatauqua.""I have.""You were in the Chatauqua with him?""For a short time.""I had a letter from him, dated at Richmond, saying that he had changed his plans.""Changed them—did he?" said Somers, who hadchanged them for him. "Perhaps you will inform me how you happened to be on board this vessel.""I don't object; it makes little difference what I say now. After obtaining the command of the Tallapoosa for Pillgrim, I went to Wilmington, where I was to take command of the Coosa.""You mean the Ben Nevis.""I do.""I thought you were to call her the Louisiana.""We did not always give you correct information," added Langdon, with a sickly smile."Go on.""While at Wilmington I got a letter from Pillgrim, then in Richmond, informing me that the Ben Nevis had been captured, and that I was appointed first lieutenant of the Tallapoosa, if I chose to take the place. I did choose to take it, hoping soon to be in command of one of the California steamers. I went to Mobile at once, and attended to the fitting out of the ship. Pillgrim wrote me that he should be on board by the 22d, and I had steam up to run out the moment he arrived.""How happened you to tell your officers that Pillgrim was coming down in a Yankee man-of-war?" asked Somers."That was his original plan. Though he wrote me from Richmond, I did not know but that he intended to return to the Chatauqua. He gave me no particulars;did not tell me that his plans had failed, only that he had changed them. When he wrote that he should be on board by the 22d, I knew he was coming down by land, and I corrected my statement. Now, Mr. Somers, will you tell me how you happen to be here?""Marine, bring out the other prisoner," said Somers, who had been instructed by Captain Cascabel to confer with the conspirators, if he could obtain any information from them.The discomfited, crestfallen commander of the Tallapoosa was brought from his room by a marine. He saw Somers, and started back with astonishment. He was pale and haggard, as though he had been spending his time in drinking bad whiskey, and in other debauchery. He had upon his face a fortnight's growth of black beard, and looked more like "Coles" than when Somers had last met him. His captor concluded that his misfortunes on board the Chatauqua had depressed his spirits, in spite of the cool look he had before carried, and that he had given way to dissipation. He certainly appeared like a person who had just come out of a hard "spree."In the Ben Lomond there was a door opening from the ward-room into the captain's cabin. The vessel had evidently been built for a swift passenger steamer. The ward-room was a portion of the main cabin, from which the steerage and engineers' rooms had been parted off; while the captain's cabin was the original "ladies'saloon." Langdon had been conducted by the marines through this door to the captain's cabin, where the conversation with him had taken place. Pillgrim was in the same manner introduced to this apartment."Mr. Somers!" exclaimed the traitor."Yes, sir. In the letter you sent me from Old Point Comfort,—and I am greatly obliged to you for the information contained in that letter,—you expressed a hope that you should meet me on board of the Ben Lomond. Your wish has been realized," replied Somers, taking the original letter, with other papers, from his pocket.Pillgrim trembled in every fibre of his frame. It was not thus he had hoped to meet his enemy."'If you capture the Ben Lomond, it will make you a lieutenant. Do it, by all means,'" continued Somers, reading the last paragraph of the letter. "This was your advice. I have done it."Pillgrim made no reply. His pale, haggard face, darkened by his half-grown beard, was contorted by emotion, and his bloodshot eyes had lost their fire."You don't seem to enjoy the situation so much as your letter intimated that you would.""Mr. Somers, I am your prisoner," said he, with a desperate struggle."You are; you will not have the pleasure of hanging me at the yard-arm.""I am bewildered—overcome.""So was Langdon.""I see why you did not join your ship before," said Langdon, with a sneer, as he glanced contemptuously at his principal. "You have been dissipating."This remark brought forth an angry retort from Pillgrim, and for a few moments each traitor reproached and vilified the other, much to the amusement of the marines, and to the disgust of Somers, who was compelled to interfere. Langdon's severest charge against his late captain was, that he had betrayed their schemes by writing letters, and in other stupid ways. Pillgrim denied it."Mr. Somers has just thanked you for the information contained in your letter," sneered Langdon. "He has good reason to do so.""I gave him no information that could be of any service to him.""You gave him the name of the vessel," retorted Langdon."But I did not tell him where she was.""You gave me that information, Mr. Langdon," said Somers, quietly."I?"Somers exhibited the letter in cipher."You could not read that without the key," protested the writer of the note."The first word I made out was 'Langdon:' thenext, 'Ben Lomond.' I am indebted to both of you. The moral of the whole affair is, that treason cannot prosper. I am indebted to both of you for the information which enabled me to capture the steamer. Gentlemen, it becomes my duty to conduct you on board of the Chatauqua.""No, Mr. Somers!" groaned Pillgrim, "spare me that.""I must obey my orders."The traitor objected strongly to being taken into the presence of the officers of the ship in which he had so recently served. He protested that he had but a few days to live, and begged to be saved from this humiliation. But Somers, though he was not without pity for the degraded and disgraced wretch, had no alternative but to obey the orders of Captain Cascabel.Langdon accepted his misfortunes with more resignation. He was quite cheerful, and volunteered to tell all he knew, though he was very bitter against Pillgrim, who, he declared, had ruined all their hopes by his dissipation, his silly pretensions, and his reckless exposure of their plans.Somers was now satisfied that Pillgrim had been intoxicated when he came over the side of the Ben Lomond the night before, which accounted for his violent conduct, and which was one of the accidents which assisted in the easy capture of the vessel.Both the prisoners were examined on board the Chatauqua; and, with the explanations of Somers, their operations were clearly comprehended. They were placed in confinement, to await the final decision in regard to them. In the forenoon Somers was sent to make his report to the admiral. He was warmly received, judiciously commended, and courteously dismissed. The young officer's respect and admiration for the "Brave Old Salt" were not diminished by his second interview.In the afternoon the Ben Lomond, in charge of an acting ensign, was sent to Pensacola, where she was to remain until further orders. It was surmised that the admiral, not wishing to spare any of the best officers of the fleet, when on the eve of a mighty event, had decided to let the prize remain in port with her prisoners until a more favorable season. Be this as it may, the Old Salamander kept everybody busy for the next ten days, when, the monitors having arrived, and all the ships intended for the attack being in complete readiness, the order was given for the battle, which now stands without a parallel in the annals of naval warfare.CHAPTER XXV.THE BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY.In order to appreciate the importance of the tremendous action in Mobile Bay, it is necessary to consider that Mobile and Wilmington were the only available ports of the rebels east of the Mississippi. The resources of the Confederacy were exhausted by three years of wasting war, and it was dependent upon foreign supplies for the means of continuing the strife. The earnest attention of the government at Washington, therefore, was directed to the shutting up of these ports.To form a correct idea of the obstacles to the closing of Mobile Bay, which had been intrusted to Admiral Farragut, it should be remembered that its entrance was guarded by two strongly-built and heavily-armed forts; that the only available channel for large vessels, but three fourths of a mile in width, ran under the guns of Fort Morgan, the stronger of the two forts; that this channel was filled with sunken torpedoes, which, experience had demonstrated, were fatal to any vessels subjectedto the explosion; and that the rebels had a fleet of gunboats and iron-clads, which could operate with every advantage against an advancing fleet."Brave Old Salt" had estimated all these obstacles, and believing that "success was a duty," he had resolved to overcome them. All the expedients which the ingenuity of a thorough seaman could devise were adopted to strengthen and protect the ships. The plan of the battle was entirely original, and displayed the genius of its author. The admiral modestly declares that he only obeyed the orders of the navy department, and disclaims the credit so lavishly awarded to him by his admiring fellow-citizens; but the government did not tell him how to do it—and in that consisted the doing of it—did not order him to "lash ships" and take his elevated position in the main rigging; did not bid him "butt" the rebel rams with his wooden prows; and for all these things does the whole world sound his praise.At half past five in the morning the Chatauqua, with the Androscoggin lashed to her port side, took her position in the line of battle. The Brooklyn was to lead the van, with the "Old Hartford," the flag-ship, next in the line, though the doughty old admiral had but tardily acceded to the request of his officers in taking this place. The position of the Chatauqua was in the centre of the line of battle.At the signal from the admiral, the fleet moved on.Every officer was full of zeal and enthusiasm, though it was certain that some of them would never behold the light of another day; that more or less of the gallant vessels must soon be overwhelmed by the hidden engines of destruction which had been planted in the channel. Somers regarded it as the great day of his existence. He had read his Testament and said his prayers that morning as though it were the last day he had to live, for the most fearful and deadly strife of the whole war was anticipated. A man is never so fully prepared to live well and do his duty faithfully as when he is ready to die.While the young officer thought even more tenderly than usual of the loved ones in his far-off home, and of that other loved one who was never forgotten when home was remembered, he felt that his country was theirs, and that every blow struck for the nation was struck for them. To die for his country was to die for them—for his own home; and he asked no higher duty than to sacrifice his life, if such was the will of God. "Thy will be done," he repeated many times, though life was full of hopes and joys to him.The fleet moved on, and the roar of the great guns in the monitors soon announced that the action had commenced. The chase guns of the Chatauqua opened first, and the ship trembled beneath the concussion."The Tecumseh has gone down," passed from mouthto mouth, as a tremendous explosion saluted the ears of the seamen.The monitor had struck upon a torpedo, and in a moment had disappeared beneath the tide, carrying down with her nearly all her gallant crew. But this incident, appalling as it was even to the battle-scarred veterans on the decks of the fleet, was hardly heeded in the terrible determination of purpose which animated every heart. The Brooklyn paused to dodge some supposed torpedo buoys, and "Brave Old Salt" dashed ahead in the Hartford to his proper place in the van of the battle.The ships in pairs came up abreast of the fort; and according to the orders of the admiral, the broadside and other guns opened upon the works, not with solid shot, in futile attempts to batter down their dense walls, but with grape, which drove the gunners of the fort from their stations.Never were guns fired more rapidly; and the roar was tremendous, shaking all earth beneath, and enveloping the scene in dense volumes of smoke, above which, as it occasionally rolled away, might be seen the admiral, lashed to the main rigging of the Hartford. A glimpse at him never failed to call forth the most unbounded enthusiasm, among officers and seamen.With comparatively little injury the fleet passed the fort, and standing to the north-west to clear the Middle Ground, was out of the reach of its guns. Terriblestories of the torpedoes had been told by deserters and refugees, but the admiral's hopes had been realized; they had been so long in the water that they had become "innocuous."But a new and greater danger menaced the fleet. The rebel iron-clad Tennessee started out from under the guns of Fort Morgan. She was a formidable adversary; and though the monitors were depended upon to "neutralize" or destroy her, they moved so slowly and steered so badly, that the brunt of the battle was borne by the wooden ships."Run her down," was the order from the admiral, which the signal officer interpreted on the quarter deck of the Chatauqua.The Battle of Mobile Bay. Page 268.The Battle of Mobile Bay.Page 268.Captain Cascabel instantly ordered full head of steam to be put on, and the ship, gathering headway, dashed down upon the Tennessee, striking her at right angles, near the after part of the casemate. The shock of the concussion was terrible. The men were thrown from their feet, and the ship groaned in bitterness of spirit at the hard usage to which she was subjected. Her stem was crushed in to the plank ends, and the water began to pour into the forward store-rooms. Expecting such an event, the carpenter and his gang were at the threatened point, and prevented any disaster from the collision.The effect upon the iron-clad was hardly perceptible,giving her a heavy list, but apparently inflicting no damage upon her. The Chatauqua swung round as she struck. Captain Cascabel, who had leaped into the mizzen rigging, gave his orders, which were promptly executed by Mr. Hackleford. Solid shot and shell were poured into the ram with a fury which would have been fatal to a less strongly built craft. As it was, one of her port shutters was struck and shattered, the rest of the shot bounding off like peas from an oak floor."Hah, you bloody villains of Yankees!" shouted the rebels, at their ports."How are you, Johnny Reb?" replied a fore-top man, as he hurled a spittoon in at the port.Another old salt dashed in a holy-stone, and then the marines opened fire upon them with their muskets."Ram her again!" shouted the admiral from the main rigging of the Hartford, as the flag-ship dashed at the game.The Chatauqua swept round, and succeeded in striking the Tennessee again, but with no better result than before. At the same time she poured in shot and shell from every available gun.At this moment one of the ships struck the Hartford, by accident, in the dense smoke, and knocked two of her ports into one. It was believed that the flag-ship would go down, for her planking was stove in within two feet of the water-line."Save the admiral! save the admiral!" shouted themen; and there was not one of them who would not have died by fire or water to rescue their beloved leader.Somers sprang upon the rail, to observe the catastrophe, and to be in readiness to save the admiral if an opportunity occurred. While he stood there, a shot hit the rail diagonally, a splinter struck him in the side, and he dropped helpless into the water."Mr. Somers is wounded and fallen overboard!" shouted the captain of the pivot gun amidships.The words were hardly out of his mouth, before another man dropped into the water from one of the ports. It was Tom Longstone. He found his young friend, and bearing him up with his strong arm, both were rescued from their perilous position."She shows the white flag! She surrenders!" was the cry, as the boatswain and Somers reached the deck.The young officer was borne to the ward-room at the moment of victory, while the cheers of the brave tars were ringing through the fleet.The Tennessee and the Selma had surrendered, the Gaines had been driven ashore, and the Morgan was for the present safe under the guns of the fort. The victory was complete and decisive.Somers was severely, if not dangerously, injured. He was borne tenderly to his state-room by his brother officers, as the cheers for the great victory were sounding through the fleet. There had been seven men killed andthirty-five wounded on board the Chatauqua. The surgeon was in the cockpit, busily engaged in attending to the wounds of the poor fellows, and could not immediately examine the young officer, who, it was evident, required no surgical operation.The ship, though considerably cut up by the shots from the fort and from the rebel steamers, was still in condition for active service. The fleet anchored in the bay, out of the reach of the guns of Fort Morgan. Officers were busy in making the necessary surveys, and the men were occupied in repairing damages and restoring order about the decks and rigging."How do you feel, Mr. Somers?" asked Mr. Hackleford, entering the sufferer's room, as soon as he could leave the deck."I do not suffer much pain, sir; but I am afraid I am badly damaged in the hull," replied Somers, with a languid smile.He was very pale, and lay very still. He was numb from the effects of the shock given him by the splinter, and some of the functions of his frame seemed to be suspended. The first lieutenant was alarmed, and sent a second messenger for the surgeon, who presently made his appearance, having disposed of the severest cases in the cockpit."What do you think of him, doctor?" asked Mr. Hackleford."I fear he is badly injured," replied Dr. De Plesion, shaking his head."Dangerously?" whispered the first lieutenant.The surgeon shook his head."Speak out, doctor," said the patient, faintly. "I am not afraid to die for my country. Please tell me the truth.""I cannot tell yet, Mr. Somers. Three of the ribs are fractured, but if he is not injured internally, he will do very well," added the surgeon, to Mr. Hackleford."I have but little pain," said the patient."You will have more, Mr. Somers, by night," continued Dr. De Plesion. "I do not discover any internal injury.""I hope there is none," said the first lieutenant. "You are too good an officer to be spared, Mr. Somers,—I mean for even a brief period, of course."The report of the surgeon was anxiously awaited by the captain and all the ward-room officers, for the third lieutenant had been a universal favorite, and his capture of the Ben Lomond, and his gallant conduct during the action with the forts and the Tennessee, had not diminished his popularity. Of all who waited the doctor's decision, none took the matter so much to heart as the boatswain, who had saved him from drowning while he was helpless in the water. Mr. Hackleford noticed him at his duty, still wet to the skin, and kindly gave him permission to visit his young friend."I shall not go by the board, Tom," said Somers. "You and I may yet make another cruise together.""Thank God! I hope so," exclaimed the boatswain, encouraged by these cheerful words."Tom, I owe my life to you.""O, never mind that, my darling! What would I have done if you had slipped your wind?""You would have done your duty, as you always do, my good fellow.""I dare say I should, Mr. Somers, but I can only thank God that you are alive now," replied the boatswain, as the tears flowed down his bronzed cheek, and he turned to leave the room.CHAPTER XXVI.IN THE HOSPITAL.Under the arrangement made by Admiral Farragut with the commander of Fort Morgan, the wounded of both sides were sent in the Metacomet to Pensacola. Somers was of the number, and he was borne from his berth in the Chatauqua to the steamer, though the removal caused him great pain. The numbness of his side was beginning to pass away, and the parts to become very sensitive."Mr. Somers, I am sorry to see you in this condition," said "Brave Old Salt," who was present with a kind word for the suffering heroes of the battle. "You behaved nobly during the fight, as I am told you always do.""Thank you, sir. You are very kind," moaned Somers, in his pain and weakness."I have not forgotten you, my brave fellow," continued the admiral. "The capture of the Ben Lomond was a matter of more consequence than you can appreciate, perhaps; and your faith and skill in doing this work entitle you to the gratitude of your country.""I am happy in having merited your approbation.""You have behaved gallantly in the action; and, I repeat, you shall be remembered. What can I do for you, Mr. Somers?""Nothing more for me, admiral. You have done more for me now than I deserve. Mr. Longstone, the boatswain of the Chatauqua, who saved my life—""I know all about him, Mr. Somers. He was your right-hand man in the capture of the Ben Lomond.""He was, sir.""He shall not be forgotten.""I have already been rewarded more than I deserve—""No, you haven't. Mr. Pillgrim promised you a lieutenant's commission, if you brought out his steamer. I ratify that promise. As to the boatswain, it is a pity he is not an educated man; but he shall be cared for.""Thank you, sir."But Somers was too faint to talk any longer, and the admiral passed to other of the noble fellows who had been wounded on that eventful day. The sufferer's cot was placed on the ward-room floor, for the state-rooms and berths were already full. In one of them lay Admiral Buchanan, who had commanded the rebel fleet. He had been wounded in the leg in the battle, and he had lost the battle itself, which, to a proud, brave spirit, was worse than losing a leg.Somers was now suffering the most intense pain, which he bore like a hero. Tom Longstone bent tenderly over him, his eyes filled with tears, and uttered his adieus. With a hand as gentle as a woman's, he pillowed his head on the couch, and smoothed back his hair from his eyes. He would gladly have gone with his wounded friend, to lave his fevered brow and speak words of comfort and encouragement to him; but neither of them thought of such a thing, for the admiral's fleet was in the enemy's waters, and every man was needed at his post.The Metacomet, having received her precious freight of mangled heroes, cast off her moorings, and, passing the fort, turned her prow to the eastward. On her arrival at Pensacola, the sufferers were transferred to the hospital, where they received every attention which willing hands and generous hearts could bestow.Fort Morgan surrendered to the combined forces of the army and navy before the end of the month, and Mobile Bay was in undisputed possession of the government. The work undertaken by the brave admiral had been fully completed. Mobile was now a cipher, so far as the Confederacy was concerned, though a great bluster was made of defending it to the last.Somers had been three weeks in the hospital, and doubtless owed his life to the skill of the surgeon and the attentions of the nurses. He had been injured internally, as Dr. De Plesion feared; but he had begun toimprove, though he was still unable to sit up. He had endured the severest pain, and the doctor had not concealed from him his fears of a fatal result, because the patience and firmness, but especially the religious faith, of the sufferer warranted him in doing so.Day after day and night after night Somers struggled with his condition, in faith, patience, and resignation. He felt that he was ready to leave the world, full of joys and hopes as it was, for the purer hopes and brighter joys of the eternal world beyond the grave. He thought of his mother, and wished that she might be with him to smooth his dying pillow, if he must die; but it was not the will of God, and he did not murmur. He thought of Kate Portington. He would like to see her once more before he passed away, but this was a vain wish; and from her and the loved ones at home he turned to the glorious realities of the immortal life—fitting theme for one who was trembling between life and death.In the midst of his pain and earthly loneliness he was happy. He could not but recall the scene of Phil Kennedy's death-bed; of the agony of remorse which shook him, as he looked back upon his past life; of the terrors with which his stricken conscience invested the grave. Then the sufferer, in the deepest depths of his heart, thanked God that he had been enabled to be true to himself and to duty. He was happy in the past, happy in the hope of the future. There was much to regret andto repent of; but as he did regret and repent, he felt that he was forgiven.He was happy; and the joy of that hour, when an approving conscience triumphs over bodily pain, and decks the waiting tomb with flowers, was worth the struggle with the legions of temptations which all must encounter.We are best fitted to live when best prepared to die. Somers waited with hope and resignation for the angel of death, but he came not. The very calmness with which he regarded the open tomb, assisted in closing its portals to him. At the end of two weeks the doctor spoke more of life than of death; at the end of three he spoke not at all of the grim messenger—grim he was, even when he wore the chaplet of flowers with which Faith and Hope ever crown him.Somers was out of danger. The internal inflammation passed away, and the patient began to mend. He thought of life now, of meeting the loved ones who, afar off, had sadly spoken farewells to him when he departed from their presence, with all the fearful perils of storm and battle hanging over him.On the day after the news of the surrender of Fort Morgan arrived, the Chatauqua dropped her anchor off Pensacola. A boat immediately put off from her, containing Boatswain Longstone, who landed, and hastened to the hospital with all possible speed. Probably therehad hardly been an hour since the Metacomet left Mobile Bay with the wounded, in which Tom had not thought of Somers. The old man was as eager and impatient as a child, and could hardly submit to the formalities necessary to procure admission to the hospital."My darling!" exclaimed the veteran, as he crept up to the bed of his young friend.He walked lightly, and spoke softly and tenderly, for he knew how sick Somers had been."Ah, Tom, I am glad to see you," replied the patient, as he extended his thin hand, which the boatswain eagerly seized, though he handled it as tenderly as a bashful youth does the hand of the maiden he loves. "It does my eyes good to look upon you, Tom.""Jack, I've been dying to see you. They told me you were in a bad way, and might slip your cable any moment.""I have not expected to live, until a week ago.""God bless you, Jack! I was never so happy in my life;" and the boatswain actually wept,—great, strong, weather-stained veteran as he was, who had breasted the storms of four and thirty years on the ocean."I know how you feel, Tom.""So you may, Jack,—I beg pardon, Mr.—""Call me Jack, now," interposed Somers, with a faint smile; "it sounds like old times. You have been the making of me, Tom, and we won't stand on ceremony, as long as we are not on board the ship."The boatswain still held the attenuated hand of his sick friend, and they talked of the past and of the present; of the battle, and of the subsequent events in the bay. But Tom Longstone seemed to be thinking all the time of something else."What have you got on, Tom?" asked Somers, as he noticed a "foul anchor" on his shoulder, and a band of gold lace on his sleeve."What have I got on? Why, I always wear my colors, of course," replied Tom, with a smile of the deepest satisfaction."But those are not the colors of a boatswain in the United States Navy.""That's a fact, Jack. I'm not a boatswain, just now.""Indeed!""I'm an acting ensign.""Is it possible?" exclaimed Somers, not less pleased than the veteran."It's a fact, my darling; but before we spin any more yarns, here's a document for you. Shall I open it?" continued Tom, as he took from his breast pocket a huge official envelope, whose appearance was entirely familiar to Somers."If you please."It was directed to "Lieutenant John Somers;" and the superscription sufficiently indicated the nature of its contents."God bless the admiral!" said Somers."God bless the admiral!" repeated Tom, glancing reverently upward as he spoke.The commission was dated before the news of the battle in Mobile Bay could have reached Washington. It followed the reception of the despatches concerning the capture of the Ben Lomond; and Tom Longstone had been made an acting ensign, though he still retained his warrant as a boatswain, for his conduct in the same affair."I congratulate you, Tom, on this promotion," said Somers."Thank you, Jack; and I congratulate you as Lieutenant Somers. You are a 'regular,' but I'm only an 'acting,'" replied the veteran. "When the war's over, I shall be a boatswain again.""I am more rejoiced for you than for myself, Tom.""Just like you, Jack. If I made you, I'm sure you made me. I got my rating as boatswain's mate in the Rosalie through you, and then I was made a boatswain for what I did with you. Now I'm an ensign by your doings. I suppose you think I'm not up to it, Jack.""Yes, I do. I know you are. There's nothing about a ship that you don't know as well as the admiral himself, except—""Except," laughed Tom, as Somers paused, "except what?""Navigation.""I know something about that, Jack—I do, upon my honor.""I do not doubt it.""When I first went into the navy, I was a regular sea dandy. I used big words, as long as the coach-whip; but I soon found a man must not talk above his station. When I was a young man, I wasn't a bad scholar. I went to the academy, and learned surveying; I meant to be a surveyor; but I got a hitch, and went to sea.""A hitch?""Well, I never mention it now. Squire Kent's daughter didn't treat me as handsomely as she did another young fellow, and I drank more liquor than was good for me. I got run down; and when I had payed out all the respectability I had, I went to sea. That cured me of drinking; in fact, I became a temperance man before the grog rations were stopped in the navy. As I said, I was pretty well educated, and talked as well as the officers on the quarter deck. But my shipmates laughed at me, and I soon dropped down into using sea slang.""I have noticed that your speech has been wonderfully improved since you were made a boatswain.""I've been trying to cure my bad habits. I've been lying round loose in the navy for thirty years before the war began. I tried to be honest and true, but the warhas set me right up. I haven't told you the best of the news yet, Jack.""What more?""You are appointed to the Ben Lomond as prize master, and I'm going with you as second officer. The admiral says you shall take the prize home, if she has to wait two months for you. She is yours, and you shall have the command of her.""He is very kind; but I do not think I shall be able to take command at present.""We are to go as soon as the doctor will let you be carried on board of her. Jack, the Ben Lomond is going into the navy; and if I mistake not, she will be in command of Lieutenant Somers.""That would be the height of my ambition. Indeed, I never aspired to anything so great as the command of a fine steamer.""You'll have her; the admiral is your friend. If you do, I shall be in the ward-room. Splinter my timber-heads! Only think of that! Tom Longstone a ward-room officer!""You deserve it, Tom."In the course of the week, other officers of the Chatauqua visited the patient, and at the end of that period the doctor permitted Somers to be conveyed on board the Ben Lomond.CHAPTER XXVII.MISS PORTINGTON NOT AT HOME.Pillgrim and Langdon had been in close confinement at Pensacola since their capture. They were now placed on board of the Ben Lomond to be sent north. An apartment was specially fitted up for their use in the steerage, for they were regarded as dangerous men, to whom bolts, bars, and other obstacles, were but trifling impediments. A sufficient number of marines to guard them were detailed for duty on the passage, and the steamer sailed for Boston, where the prize was to be adjusted.Somers was now improving very rapidly, and before he left the hospital, had sat up a small portion of each day. The pleasant intelligence brought to him by Tom Longstone had not retarded his recovery; on the contrary, the bright hopes of the future which it suggested, rather stimulated his feeble frame, and assisted in his restoration to health.The steamer had fine weather on the passage, with the exception of a gale of thirty hours' duration. She putinto Hampton Roads, and landed her prisoners at Fortress Monroe, in accordance with the orders of her commander, and then proceeded to Boston. The Ben Lomond behaved remarkably well in the heavy weather she experienced, proving herself to be a strongly-built and substantial vessel. Somers sent his despatches to Washington from Fortress Monroe.When the Ben Lomond sailed into Boston Harbor, Somers was able to go on deck, for with each day of the voyage his health had continued to improve. The steamer was duly handed over to the naval authorities, and the young lieutenant was granted a furlough of sixty days."Our cruise is up," said Tom Longstone, when the business had been completed."For the present, we have nothing to do; but I hope we shall soon receive our orders," replied Somers. "Now, Tom, you will go down to Pinchbrook with me, and spend a couple of months.""Thank you, Jack; I hardly think I should know how to behave in a house on shore, it is so long since I have been in one.""You will soon learn."They went to Pinchbrook, and Tom received a welcome almost as cordial as that extended to Somers. The veteran was soon made entirely at home by his young friend's father, and such a "spinning of yarns" forthirty days had never been known before. Tom told a story of the Cumberland; then Captain Somers had a West India yarn; and gran'ther Greene was indulgently permitted to relate his experience in the "last war," though it was observed that the old man, whose memory was much impaired, always told the same story.Never did a happier trio gather around a kitchen fire than that which sat around the cook-stove at Pinchbrook on those autumn mornings. Very likely Mrs. Somers thought the "men folks" were in the way at times; but, she was too much interested in the stories told, and too good natured to raise an objection, especially when John joined the party.In the mean time, Somers was rapidly regaining his health and strength. As may be supposed, he was a lion in Pinchbrook, and was invited to every party and every merry-making in the place. Captain Barney was with him a great deal, and was as fond of him as though he had been his own son. Of course the young ladies of Pinchbrook regarded the lieutenant as a great man; and if it had not been known in town that he was "paying attention" to a commodore's daughter, he might have been absolutely persecuted by the fair ones of his native village.In strict observance of his promise, Somers had written several letters to Kate Portington, but had received no answer. These epistles, with the exception of an occasionalplayful remark, were confined to the details of his naval operations. The events of his career were faithfully recorded, and they were in no sense such productions as many silly young men would have written under similar circumstances. No answer to any of them had been received.Since his arrival at Pinchbrook, Somers had written two letters; but at the end of the first month of his furlough, he had not heard a word from Kate. He was troubled, and no doubt thought Kate was very cold and cruel. He knew that Pillgrim had not seen her, and therefore could not have prejudiced her against him. It was possible that his letters had not reached their destination; Kate might be away from home; and he was not willing to believe that anything had occurred to make her less friendly to him than formerly.Somers, as we have so often had occasion to represent him, was always in favor of "facing the music." If there was anything the matter, he wanted to know it. If the lady wished to discontinue the acquaintance, he wanted to know that; and when he could no longer content himself in Pinchbrook, with the question unsettled, he started for Newport. On his arrival he proceeded at once to the residence of Commodore Portington. With a firm hand he rang the bell—in surprising contrast with his first visit, for now he was firm and decided.The servant informed him that Miss Portington was athome, and he sent up his card. Somers sat nervously waiting the issue. Presently the servant returned and handed him a card, on which was written, "Miss Portington is not at home to Mr. John Somers."He was confounded by this cool reply. Though her present conduct was in accordance with the unanswered letters, he had not expected to be thus rudely repelled. If she had any objection to him, why didn't she tell him so? He had done his duty to his country, and kept his promises to her. It was the severest blow he had ever received.He read the card, rose from his chair, and left the house, as dignified as though he had been on the quarter deck of the Ben Lomond. He was too proud to ask or to offer any explanations. We will not undertake to say how bad he felt. Perhaps he wished he had died in the Pensacola hospital, when he lay at death's door; perhaps he felt like rushing into the hottest of a fight, and laying down his life for the cause he had espoused, without thinking that this would be suicide, rather than a generous sacrifice to a holy duty.Mr. Pillgrim had informed him that he would meet with a "chilly" reception. It was even worse than that; but as it was evidently caused by the traitor's machinations, he was content to suffer. If she chose to let the words of the wretched conspirator against his country bias her against him, he could not help it; andhis only remaining duty was to submit with the best possible grace.Of course he could not leave Newport without calling at the Naval Academy. Mr. Revere, the commandant of midshipmen, was his firm friend, and it would be treason to him to leave the city without seeing him. He was cordially received, and his experience in Mobile Bay was listened to with the most friendly interest."I need not ask you if you have been to Commodore Portington's," said Mr. Revere."I have, sir.""Well, how is Miss Portington?""I did not see her," replied Somers, who, conscious that he had done no wrong, was not disposed to conceal his misfortune from so good a friend."Did not see her!" exclaimed the commandant.Somers explained.The story of Pillgrim's treason had been circulated, but the particulars by which it had been exposed were known to only a few. Mr. Revere saw at once the cause of the rupture."The villain has sent her the bond you signed," said he."Perhaps he has.""Probably she knows nothing of the circumstances under which you signed it.""I have had no opportunity to explain.""But, Somers, you musn't be too stiff. Any lady would be fully justified in refusing to see a gentleman who signed a paper like that, which contained her name in such a connection.""I think so myself; and therefore I will not blame her.""Pillgrim got you to sign that document for this very purpose.""I surmised as much.""But it is a wrong to the lady as well as to you, to permit this thing to go on.""I have no remedy.""Write her a note, explaining your position.""My motives would be misconstrued.""Then I shall act for you."Somers went to his hotel, and Mr. Revere did act it for him. Kate was not satisfied. A high-minded man would have died rather than sign such a paper. So would Somers, if the bond had any real meaning. The commandant was not successful in the negotiation, as mediators seldom are in such cases."I am satisfied, Mr. Revere," said Somers: but he was as far from satisfied as a young man could be."There is no help for it; but, Somers, I have invited a few friends to my house this evening, and you must be with us.""Will Miss Portington be there?""She has been invited, with her mother.""I will go," replied he, still carrying out his principle that it is always best to "face the music."He did go. The few friends were about fifty—to celebrate the birthday of the commandant's lady. There were music, and dancing, and revelry; and Kate Portington was there, with her mother. He saw the fair girl; saw her smile as pleasantly and unconcernedly as though nothing had happened. He met her face to face; she bowed coldly, and passed on. Mrs. Portington was not quite so "chilly," but not at all as she had been in former times."Mr. Somers, we shall always remember you with gratitude, for the service you so kindly rendered us," said she."It is hardly worth remembering, madam, much less mentioning," replied Somers."It shall always be gratefully remembered, and cordially mentioned. You cannot yourself regret more than I do, that anything should have occurred to disturb the pleasant relations which formerly existed.""I regret it very much, madam; but as I think I have done my duty to my country and to my friends, I must regret it without reproaching myself for my conduct in that which has proved so offensive.""Was it your duty to sign that vile paper?" asked the lady, in excited tones."I think it was.""I must take a different view of the matter; but, Mr. Somers, I shall still be interested in your success.""Thank you, madam."And the lady passed on. Somers looked at Kate. She was dancing with a young officer who had greatly distinguished himself in the waters of North Carolina. She looked happy. Was she so? She certainly had a wonderful command of herself if she was not. Somers retired at an early hour.Did Kate think he was an adventurer? His superior officer had directed him to sign the bond, as a "war measure." He had done so with regret and disgust. The paper meant nothing to him. Why should it mean anything to her and her mother?The next day, Somers returned to Pinchbrook, where he found certain official documents in the post office, directed to him. He was appointed to the command of the Firefly, which was the new name given by the department to the Ben Lomond. The steamer had been duly condemned, and purchased by the government, her great speed admirably adapting her as a cruiser for rebel pirates. Somers was generously rewarded for his zeal and success in the capture of the twin steamers, which had been intended to prey on the commerce of the country.Acting Ensign Longstone was appointed second lieutenantof the Firefly. The third and fourth lieutenants, and the sailing master, were acting ensigns, like Tom Longstone.
"This course will bring us into the midst of the Yankee fleet in about twenty minutes," said Captain Column.
"I'm not at all afraid of the Yankee fleet," replied Somers.
"I'm not afraid of anything else," laughed the pilot.
"Where are the torpedoes?"
"Between us and Fort Morgan, which is only about a third of a mile distant, on our beam."
"And the obstructions?"
"We have passed them; they are of no account. Captain, I think all your troubles are yet to come," said the pilot, as he glanced ahead.
"Why so?"
"If we should happen to plump into one of those monitors, a fifteen inch shot would finish this craft in less time than it would take to read a man's epitaph."
"I have prepared for all such accidents. The Yankees will not fire on me."
"No?" exclaimed the pilot, wonderingly.
"I think you don't know me."
"I heard the first lieutenant say you were coming down here in one of the Yankee ships."
"I did."
"Did you, though?"
"We will come to anchor, pilot, when we get within hail of the Yankee squadron."
"Come to anchor, sir?"
"Certainly; come to anchor, until the fog clears off, or we can get a little daylight. I don't want much."
"Well, that beats me!" ejaculated Captain Column.
"I shall hoist The Yankee flag over the Confederate; then the Yankees will think this ship is a prize, and will not fire into her."
"That beats me!" repeated the pilot.
"I came down here in a Yankee man-of-war, and I made the arrangements for carrying this thing through before I left her."
"O, yes, I see!" laughed Captain Column. "You are playing them a Yankee trick."
"Exactly so!"
"Capital! capital!" exclaimed the pilot.
Fifteen minutes later, the Ben Lomond came to anchor under the lee of Sand Island, to wait for a favorable time to continue her voyage.
A YANKEE TRICK.
The rebel officers and crew of the Ben Lomond were greatly astonished when the order was given to let go the anchor. They were not in a condition to appreciate the policy of stopping the wheels, and waiting for daylight within hail of the blockading squadron, reënforced as it had been for the attack on the forts; but as the captain had the reputation of being a perfect tiger, a fire-eater of the most ravenous sort, they did not venture to grumble or make any complaints.
Captain Column, the pilot, chuckled, and declared it was all right; the commander knew what he was about, and would get the steamer out of the scrape without even a shot from the Yankee men-of-war.
Somers had kept up his dignity and maintained his self-possession in the exciting scenes through which he had just passed; but it must not be thought that he was as easy in mind as he appeared to be. Every moment had been burdened with its own peculiar anxiety. The least slip, the slightest accident, would expose him andhis brave followers to great peril, if not to capture and death. He had won the day thus far by the mere force of impudence and self-possession; but it was not without a fear of failure, disgrace, and captivity.
But everything, up to this time, had worked admirably. He had met and successfully turned aside the obstacles which beset him; and when the Ben Lomond came to anchor, the prospect looked more hopeful than at any previous hour. It was now about two o'clock in the morning. As there was nothing to do, he devoted an hour to an examination of the vessel, which had been fitted up at Mobile as a rebel cruiser. She had a heavy rifled pivot gun amidships, and four broadside guns, and was in every respect well provided for the work in which she was to engage.
She was a vessel of about four hundred tons measurement, long, narrow, and very sharp. Her rig was that of a topsail schooner, and her smoke-stack raked with her masts. She was a beautiful craft, and no labor or expense had been spared to make her the fastest and most elegant vessel afloat.
Even in the darkness, Somers could see enough of her shape and fittings to excite his admiration. He passed from the spar deck to the berth deck, where everything was in keeping with her appearance above. The ward-room was small, but it was comfortable and well arranged, and the captain's cabin was fitted up like that ofa royal yacht. Probably Mr. Pillgrim had spent some of his own money on these arrangements before she left the Clyde; but what contributed distinctly to make her a war steamer had been done after her arrival at Mobile.
Somers was delighted with the arrangements of the prize, and as he examined the commander's cabin, he could not help envying the man who was permitted to occupy this sumptuous and convenient apartment; that is, if the stars and stripes floated at the peak above him, for he would rather have been a coal-heaver in a loyal ship, than in command of the Ben Lomond under the flag of the Confederacy.
Mr. Swayne had conducted Somers over the vessel, and pointed out to him those features which were most worthy of notice.
"She is a splendid vessel," said the young commander, as they paused in the ward-room.
"Yes, sir; I am but too happy in being appointed to such a ship. If we only get clear of the Yankee squadron, we shall give a good account of her."
"We shall have no quarrel with the Yankee ships," replied Somers, as he led the way to the spar deck again, for he was not disposed, just yet, to let Pillgrim and Langdon, who were confined there, hear his voice.
"Captain Pillgrim, you seem to be more confident on this point than your officers," replied Swayne, in a gentle tone, which more than insinuated that he would like to know more of the commander's plans.
Somers was very anxious that he should know more of them, so as to prevent any suspicions which his subsequent course might excite.
"From what point did you expect me to come, before my arrival?" asked Somers.
"I had no idea. Mr. Langdon seemed to be familiar with all your movements, but he did not say much about them. He did remark, at one time, that you were coming down as second lieutenant of one of the Yankee men-of-war."
"Did he, indeed? Well, he was a prudent man, and he will have his reward within a few days. Did he really say that?"
"He did."
"I was deceived in him; he was not to be trusted. I placed every confidence in him. What else did he tell you?" asked Somers, artfully.
"Nothing else, sir. He said more to me than to any other officer, and hardly anything to me."
"He has betrayed me."
"He told only me that you were to come in a Yankee man-of-war."
"Yes, he did; the pilot knew it—spoke to me of it; and very likely every man in the ship has the news. But, Mr. Swayne, the statement was true."
"Mr. Langdon afterwards contradicted it, and said you were in Richmond, and were coming down by land."
"Probably he thought he had made a blunder. I did come down in the Yankee ship, the Chatauqua. I am third lieutenant of her, not second. I was sent off by the captain, at my own suggestion, of course, to bring out this vessel. I have done it—haven't I?"
"You have," laughed Swayne. "Then you are expected by the Yankees?"
"Of course I am."
The first lieutenant of the Ben Lomond indulged in a laugh highly complimentary to the skill and cleverness of his commander. Somers laughed with him. It was an excellent joke to both parties, though, like the Druid shield, it was seen from different points of view.
"Capital!" exclaimed Mr. Swayne, when he had evaporated the foam of his mirth.
"If the fog clears off, I shall let up some rockets, which will prevent the Yankees from firing at us. You understand?"
"I see, sir: you have the Yankee signals?" chuckled Mr. Swayne.
"Every one of them. No doubt they are on the lookout for me in every ship in the squadron."
"Excellent, Captain Pillgrim. This is, by all odds, the best joke of the season."
"Now, Mr. Swayne, you will hoist the Yankee flag over the Confederate."
"I don't like to do that, captain," added Mr. Swayne, with a burst of patriotic enthusiasm.
"For a purpose, Mr. Swayne. Of course, when the men-of-war see that flag over the other, they will not fire. We shall run through the squadron, as though we belonged to it; and then—well, you will see what you will see."
"Exactly so!" exclaimed Mr. Swayne, who seemed to enjoy the prospect exceedingly, even independent of his desire to flatter and "toady" to his commander.
The flags were hoisted as Somers directed, and the "captain" for a couple of hours planked the deck in silence, impatiently waiting for the fog to lift, or for the daylight to come. It was his policy to anchor, because he was fearful that the steamer would run by the squadron, in the fog and darkness, and it would excite suspicion to return to the fleet, after safely passing through it. If Mr. Swayne had suspected any treachery, or that everything was not as it appeared to be, it would have gone hard with Somers and his men, for he could call in double the loyal force to assist him, besides releasing Pillgrim and Langdon.
At four o'clock in the morning, the fog lifted, and Somers directed the rockets to be discharged, and the steamer to be got under way. Though anxious to keep up appearances, he quietly directed Tom Longstone to make as much delay as possible, and by some accident the messenger parted when the anchor was apeak, and it was necessary to do the work over again.
"Captain Pillgrim, what shall be done with the men who came on board with you?" asked Mr. Swayne, while the crew were walking round the capstan.
"What shall be done with them?" asked Somers, apparently not comprehending the meaning of the question.
"They are Yankees—are they not?"
"They are true men, Mr. Swayne. I selected them for this very duty, and I know them."
"Excuse me, sir, I heard one of them singing a Yankee song, just now."
"They have been in the habit of singing such songs lately; but they are true men, and will stand by me to the last. If I had wanted them, I might have brought off a hundred of the crew of the Chatauqua."
Somers told a great many truths in the course of the night, for the purpose of deceiving the enemies of his country, which is a very anomalous duty for truth to perform.
The anchor was at the hawse hole, was "catted and fished;" and the Ben Lomond moved on again, with the pilot on the bridge. As the fog lifted, and the daylight increased, the squadron of "Brave Old Salt" was seen by Somers and his companions. As he had promised, not a ship fired on the steamer, or offered to molest her. The first lieutenant, pilot, and other officers were entirely satisfied that everything was working in exact accordance with the plans of their "smart" commander, as they already called him.
The exciting moment when all the delusion would be swept away, and the rebel officers and seamen find themselves prisoners, and their ship a prize, was at hand. Somers had already arranged his final movements with the boatswain, and certain of the men were instructed to perform particular parts in the closing scene of the drama.
"Now, Captain Column," said Somers to the pilot, "we must run down for the Chatauqua. She is the last vessel in the squadron, and if we appear to be moving towards her, nothing will be suspected."
"Exactly so, captain," replied the pilot, shaking his fat sides with laughter at the Yankee trick which they were playing off upon the originators of this species of pleasantry.
"It is quite smooth this morning. The wind has all gone down. Run right under the quarter of the Chatauqua."
"I can take her within six feet of the ship, if you like."
"Not too close."
"They will give us three cheers, won't they?" laughed the pilot.
"Very likely."
"Port!" shouted the pilot, as the Ben Lomond approached the Chatauqua.
"Port!" yelled the quartermaster at the helm, at whose side stood Tom Longstone.
"Port!" repeated the pilot with greater energy, when he saw that the head of the steamer was swinging off from the Chatauqua.
"Port!" again responded the quartermaster.
"Starboard a little more," said Tom, in a low tone.
Captain Column began to storm because the helm did not go to port as he ordered.
"Can't help it, sir. The tiller chains are jammed, sir," replied the quartermaster.
"Now hard a port!" said Tom Longstone.
"Starboard! Hard a starboard!" screamed the pilot, in tones of fury.
"Helm is jammed, sir!" returned the boatswain.
At this moment the bells were rung to stop, and then to back the engine. To all but the half dozen loyal seamen who stood near the helm, everything seemed to be in confusion. The Ben Lomond ran up on the lee side of the Chatauqua, and stopped within a few feet of her. A stroke of the wheels and a turn of the helm brought her alongside, before the rebels could clearly apprehend the situation. The twenty-four men, with their revolvers and cutlasses, stood ready to check any demonstration on the part of officers or crew, but none was made. Their weapons were in the armory, and they suspected nothing till an instant before the steamer touched the ship's side.
Conant, as instructed, leaped on board the Chatauqua, and reported Somers's wish to the officer of the deck.In another moment, the watch on deck of the man-of-war poured into the prize, and secured every officer and seaman. Then came the three rousing cheers which the pilot had expected, and the work was done.
If ever a rebel was disappointed, disheartened, and disgusted, it was Mr. Swayne. He had been bewildered by the sudden change in the course of the steamer, and actually believed that it was caused by the wheel chains being jammed, until the watch from the Chatauqua poured in upon her decks.
"Well, Mr. Swayne, I suppose you are satisfied that I spoke the truth. The Yankees have not fired upon us; I came down in the Chatauqua; I was sent off to bring out this vessel; I have done it," said Somers.
"I had no suspicion you were a Yankee," replied the first lieutenant. "Where did you get your commission?"
"It was given me by Mr. Langdon and Mr. Pillgrim, both of whom are under guard below."
Swayne used some expletives more forcible than polite, and Somers went on board the Chatauqua to report.
PILLGRIM AND LANGDON.
"I have the honor to report the capture of the Ben Lomond, otherwise the Tallapoosa," said Somers, as he advanced towards Mr. Hackleford, his face red with blushes, and his heart bounding with emotion.
The first lieutenant of the Chatauqua had regarded his enterprise with a want of faith, to say the least; and when the young commander of the expedition came forward to report its entire success, there was something like pride and exultation in his manner, mingling not ungracefully with the manifestations of his natural modesty. He had done "a big thing;" he felt that he had done "a big thing;" and it would have been a ridiculous affectation for him to pretend, by word or manner, that he had not done "a big thing."
"I congratulate you upon your success, Mr. Somers," replied Mr. Hackleford, warmly. "I was sceptical, I confess; but no man in the fleet is happier than I am at your good fortune."
"Thank you, sir," said Somers, blushing more deeply than before, and almost wishing that the first lieutenant had done the "big thing" instead of himself, because he was so kind and generous in his commendation.
"You have managed the affair with skill and energy. For my own part, I did not believe you would even get into the bay, let alone capturing the vessel. I am astonished at your success, but none the less delighted because I am surprised."
"Thank you, sir," was all Somers could say in reply to this praise so magnanimously bestowed.
"Captain Cascabel will see you, in his cabin, and we will hear your verbal report there."
Mr. Garboard had already gone on board the prize, hauled her off from the ship, where she was chafing her sides, and moored her a cable's length distant. Somers went below, where he was as warmly and generously greeted by the captain as he had been by the first lieutenant. He related the story of his night's adventures to them with all necessary minuteness. His auditors could not help laughing when he told them what he had done with his old friends, the first lieutenant and the commander of the rebel craft. He had acted on his theory of Pillgrim's intended movements, and thus kept himself above suspicion.
"How does Mr. Pillgrim appear?" asked the captain.
"I haven't seen him, sir; I was very careful not tolet him see me. Mr. Swayne, the first lieutenant of the Ben Lomond, after I had disposed of Langdon, managed him for me."
"It's a very amusing as well as a very exciting affair. But we must see these officers. Where are they?"
"Under guard in the state-rooms of the prize, sir."
"Bring them on board, if you please, Mr. Somers. Get your breakfast first."
Somers went to the ward-room, where he breakfasted with the officers off duty. He was cordially congratulated upon his success, though perhaps some of the mess regarded him as rather exclusive in permitting none of them to share his laurels.
After breakfast the first cutter was cleared away, and Somers pulled to the prize in her. The Ben Lomond was temporarily in charge of the second lieutenant of the Chatauqua, who had secured the prisoners, and put everything in order on board. Somers went at once to the ward-room, where the two most important prisoners were confined. There were now at each door a couple of marines with loaded muskets, but no communication had been had with the solitary occupant of either.
Pillgrim had several times attempted to obtain some information in regard to what was going on, but he was still in darkness. Even the bull's eye in his room could not have enlightened him, for it was on the starboard side of the steamer, while the Chatauqua lay on the port side.
Somers ordered the marines to open the door of Langdon's room first, and the late first lieutenant of the Tallapoosa came forth.
"Lieutenant Wynkoop, I believe," said Somers, facetiously.
Langdon looked at him with astonishment.
"Have you any more old sherry that has made two voyages to India?"
"This is hardly magnanimous, Mr. Somers," said Langdon, coldly.
"Perhaps not; but when officers stoop to such tricks as those you have practised, there can be no great harm in mentioning them."
"Mr. Somers, I find myself somewhat bewildered."
"I dare say," laughed Somers. "Very likely your friend Pillgrim, or Coles, is in the same situation."
"Is he on board?"
"He is."
"I have not seen him since he left Philadelphia in the Chatauqua."
"I have."
"You were in the Chatauqua with him?"
"For a short time."
"I had a letter from him, dated at Richmond, saying that he had changed his plans."
"Changed them—did he?" said Somers, who hadchanged them for him. "Perhaps you will inform me how you happened to be on board this vessel."
"I don't object; it makes little difference what I say now. After obtaining the command of the Tallapoosa for Pillgrim, I went to Wilmington, where I was to take command of the Coosa."
"You mean the Ben Nevis."
"I do."
"I thought you were to call her the Louisiana."
"We did not always give you correct information," added Langdon, with a sickly smile.
"Go on."
"While at Wilmington I got a letter from Pillgrim, then in Richmond, informing me that the Ben Nevis had been captured, and that I was appointed first lieutenant of the Tallapoosa, if I chose to take the place. I did choose to take it, hoping soon to be in command of one of the California steamers. I went to Mobile at once, and attended to the fitting out of the ship. Pillgrim wrote me that he should be on board by the 22d, and I had steam up to run out the moment he arrived."
"How happened you to tell your officers that Pillgrim was coming down in a Yankee man-of-war?" asked Somers.
"That was his original plan. Though he wrote me from Richmond, I did not know but that he intended to return to the Chatauqua. He gave me no particulars;did not tell me that his plans had failed, only that he had changed them. When he wrote that he should be on board by the 22d, I knew he was coming down by land, and I corrected my statement. Now, Mr. Somers, will you tell me how you happen to be here?"
"Marine, bring out the other prisoner," said Somers, who had been instructed by Captain Cascabel to confer with the conspirators, if he could obtain any information from them.
The discomfited, crestfallen commander of the Tallapoosa was brought from his room by a marine. He saw Somers, and started back with astonishment. He was pale and haggard, as though he had been spending his time in drinking bad whiskey, and in other debauchery. He had upon his face a fortnight's growth of black beard, and looked more like "Coles" than when Somers had last met him. His captor concluded that his misfortunes on board the Chatauqua had depressed his spirits, in spite of the cool look he had before carried, and that he had given way to dissipation. He certainly appeared like a person who had just come out of a hard "spree."
In the Ben Lomond there was a door opening from the ward-room into the captain's cabin. The vessel had evidently been built for a swift passenger steamer. The ward-room was a portion of the main cabin, from which the steerage and engineers' rooms had been parted off; while the captain's cabin was the original "ladies'saloon." Langdon had been conducted by the marines through this door to the captain's cabin, where the conversation with him had taken place. Pillgrim was in the same manner introduced to this apartment.
"Mr. Somers!" exclaimed the traitor.
"Yes, sir. In the letter you sent me from Old Point Comfort,—and I am greatly obliged to you for the information contained in that letter,—you expressed a hope that you should meet me on board of the Ben Lomond. Your wish has been realized," replied Somers, taking the original letter, with other papers, from his pocket.
Pillgrim trembled in every fibre of his frame. It was not thus he had hoped to meet his enemy.
"'If you capture the Ben Lomond, it will make you a lieutenant. Do it, by all means,'" continued Somers, reading the last paragraph of the letter. "This was your advice. I have done it."
Pillgrim made no reply. His pale, haggard face, darkened by his half-grown beard, was contorted by emotion, and his bloodshot eyes had lost their fire.
"You don't seem to enjoy the situation so much as your letter intimated that you would."
"Mr. Somers, I am your prisoner," said he, with a desperate struggle.
"You are; you will not have the pleasure of hanging me at the yard-arm."
"I am bewildered—overcome."
"So was Langdon."
"I see why you did not join your ship before," said Langdon, with a sneer, as he glanced contemptuously at his principal. "You have been dissipating."
This remark brought forth an angry retort from Pillgrim, and for a few moments each traitor reproached and vilified the other, much to the amusement of the marines, and to the disgust of Somers, who was compelled to interfere. Langdon's severest charge against his late captain was, that he had betrayed their schemes by writing letters, and in other stupid ways. Pillgrim denied it.
"Mr. Somers has just thanked you for the information contained in your letter," sneered Langdon. "He has good reason to do so."
"I gave him no information that could be of any service to him."
"You gave him the name of the vessel," retorted Langdon.
"But I did not tell him where she was."
"You gave me that information, Mr. Langdon," said Somers, quietly.
"I?"
Somers exhibited the letter in cipher.
"You could not read that without the key," protested the writer of the note.
"The first word I made out was 'Langdon:' thenext, 'Ben Lomond.' I am indebted to both of you. The moral of the whole affair is, that treason cannot prosper. I am indebted to both of you for the information which enabled me to capture the steamer. Gentlemen, it becomes my duty to conduct you on board of the Chatauqua."
"No, Mr. Somers!" groaned Pillgrim, "spare me that."
"I must obey my orders."
The traitor objected strongly to being taken into the presence of the officers of the ship in which he had so recently served. He protested that he had but a few days to live, and begged to be saved from this humiliation. But Somers, though he was not without pity for the degraded and disgraced wretch, had no alternative but to obey the orders of Captain Cascabel.
Langdon accepted his misfortunes with more resignation. He was quite cheerful, and volunteered to tell all he knew, though he was very bitter against Pillgrim, who, he declared, had ruined all their hopes by his dissipation, his silly pretensions, and his reckless exposure of their plans.
Somers was now satisfied that Pillgrim had been intoxicated when he came over the side of the Ben Lomond the night before, which accounted for his violent conduct, and which was one of the accidents which assisted in the easy capture of the vessel.
Both the prisoners were examined on board the Chatauqua; and, with the explanations of Somers, their operations were clearly comprehended. They were placed in confinement, to await the final decision in regard to them. In the forenoon Somers was sent to make his report to the admiral. He was warmly received, judiciously commended, and courteously dismissed. The young officer's respect and admiration for the "Brave Old Salt" were not diminished by his second interview.
In the afternoon the Ben Lomond, in charge of an acting ensign, was sent to Pensacola, where she was to remain until further orders. It was surmised that the admiral, not wishing to spare any of the best officers of the fleet, when on the eve of a mighty event, had decided to let the prize remain in port with her prisoners until a more favorable season. Be this as it may, the Old Salamander kept everybody busy for the next ten days, when, the monitors having arrived, and all the ships intended for the attack being in complete readiness, the order was given for the battle, which now stands without a parallel in the annals of naval warfare.
THE BATTLE OF MOBILE BAY.
In order to appreciate the importance of the tremendous action in Mobile Bay, it is necessary to consider that Mobile and Wilmington were the only available ports of the rebels east of the Mississippi. The resources of the Confederacy were exhausted by three years of wasting war, and it was dependent upon foreign supplies for the means of continuing the strife. The earnest attention of the government at Washington, therefore, was directed to the shutting up of these ports.
To form a correct idea of the obstacles to the closing of Mobile Bay, which had been intrusted to Admiral Farragut, it should be remembered that its entrance was guarded by two strongly-built and heavily-armed forts; that the only available channel for large vessels, but three fourths of a mile in width, ran under the guns of Fort Morgan, the stronger of the two forts; that this channel was filled with sunken torpedoes, which, experience had demonstrated, were fatal to any vessels subjectedto the explosion; and that the rebels had a fleet of gunboats and iron-clads, which could operate with every advantage against an advancing fleet.
"Brave Old Salt" had estimated all these obstacles, and believing that "success was a duty," he had resolved to overcome them. All the expedients which the ingenuity of a thorough seaman could devise were adopted to strengthen and protect the ships. The plan of the battle was entirely original, and displayed the genius of its author. The admiral modestly declares that he only obeyed the orders of the navy department, and disclaims the credit so lavishly awarded to him by his admiring fellow-citizens; but the government did not tell him how to do it—and in that consisted the doing of it—did not order him to "lash ships" and take his elevated position in the main rigging; did not bid him "butt" the rebel rams with his wooden prows; and for all these things does the whole world sound his praise.
At half past five in the morning the Chatauqua, with the Androscoggin lashed to her port side, took her position in the line of battle. The Brooklyn was to lead the van, with the "Old Hartford," the flag-ship, next in the line, though the doughty old admiral had but tardily acceded to the request of his officers in taking this place. The position of the Chatauqua was in the centre of the line of battle.
At the signal from the admiral, the fleet moved on.Every officer was full of zeal and enthusiasm, though it was certain that some of them would never behold the light of another day; that more or less of the gallant vessels must soon be overwhelmed by the hidden engines of destruction which had been planted in the channel. Somers regarded it as the great day of his existence. He had read his Testament and said his prayers that morning as though it were the last day he had to live, for the most fearful and deadly strife of the whole war was anticipated. A man is never so fully prepared to live well and do his duty faithfully as when he is ready to die.
While the young officer thought even more tenderly than usual of the loved ones in his far-off home, and of that other loved one who was never forgotten when home was remembered, he felt that his country was theirs, and that every blow struck for the nation was struck for them. To die for his country was to die for them—for his own home; and he asked no higher duty than to sacrifice his life, if such was the will of God. "Thy will be done," he repeated many times, though life was full of hopes and joys to him.
The fleet moved on, and the roar of the great guns in the monitors soon announced that the action had commenced. The chase guns of the Chatauqua opened first, and the ship trembled beneath the concussion.
"The Tecumseh has gone down," passed from mouthto mouth, as a tremendous explosion saluted the ears of the seamen.
The monitor had struck upon a torpedo, and in a moment had disappeared beneath the tide, carrying down with her nearly all her gallant crew. But this incident, appalling as it was even to the battle-scarred veterans on the decks of the fleet, was hardly heeded in the terrible determination of purpose which animated every heart. The Brooklyn paused to dodge some supposed torpedo buoys, and "Brave Old Salt" dashed ahead in the Hartford to his proper place in the van of the battle.
The ships in pairs came up abreast of the fort; and according to the orders of the admiral, the broadside and other guns opened upon the works, not with solid shot, in futile attempts to batter down their dense walls, but with grape, which drove the gunners of the fort from their stations.
Never were guns fired more rapidly; and the roar was tremendous, shaking all earth beneath, and enveloping the scene in dense volumes of smoke, above which, as it occasionally rolled away, might be seen the admiral, lashed to the main rigging of the Hartford. A glimpse at him never failed to call forth the most unbounded enthusiasm, among officers and seamen.
With comparatively little injury the fleet passed the fort, and standing to the north-west to clear the Middle Ground, was out of the reach of its guns. Terriblestories of the torpedoes had been told by deserters and refugees, but the admiral's hopes had been realized; they had been so long in the water that they had become "innocuous."
But a new and greater danger menaced the fleet. The rebel iron-clad Tennessee started out from under the guns of Fort Morgan. She was a formidable adversary; and though the monitors were depended upon to "neutralize" or destroy her, they moved so slowly and steered so badly, that the brunt of the battle was borne by the wooden ships.
"Run her down," was the order from the admiral, which the signal officer interpreted on the quarter deck of the Chatauqua.
The Battle of Mobile Bay. Page 268.
The Battle of Mobile Bay.Page 268.
Captain Cascabel instantly ordered full head of steam to be put on, and the ship, gathering headway, dashed down upon the Tennessee, striking her at right angles, near the after part of the casemate. The shock of the concussion was terrible. The men were thrown from their feet, and the ship groaned in bitterness of spirit at the hard usage to which she was subjected. Her stem was crushed in to the plank ends, and the water began to pour into the forward store-rooms. Expecting such an event, the carpenter and his gang were at the threatened point, and prevented any disaster from the collision.
The effect upon the iron-clad was hardly perceptible,giving her a heavy list, but apparently inflicting no damage upon her. The Chatauqua swung round as she struck. Captain Cascabel, who had leaped into the mizzen rigging, gave his orders, which were promptly executed by Mr. Hackleford. Solid shot and shell were poured into the ram with a fury which would have been fatal to a less strongly built craft. As it was, one of her port shutters was struck and shattered, the rest of the shot bounding off like peas from an oak floor.
"Hah, you bloody villains of Yankees!" shouted the rebels, at their ports.
"How are you, Johnny Reb?" replied a fore-top man, as he hurled a spittoon in at the port.
Another old salt dashed in a holy-stone, and then the marines opened fire upon them with their muskets.
"Ram her again!" shouted the admiral from the main rigging of the Hartford, as the flag-ship dashed at the game.
The Chatauqua swept round, and succeeded in striking the Tennessee again, but with no better result than before. At the same time she poured in shot and shell from every available gun.
At this moment one of the ships struck the Hartford, by accident, in the dense smoke, and knocked two of her ports into one. It was believed that the flag-ship would go down, for her planking was stove in within two feet of the water-line.
"Save the admiral! save the admiral!" shouted themen; and there was not one of them who would not have died by fire or water to rescue their beloved leader.
Somers sprang upon the rail, to observe the catastrophe, and to be in readiness to save the admiral if an opportunity occurred. While he stood there, a shot hit the rail diagonally, a splinter struck him in the side, and he dropped helpless into the water.
"Mr. Somers is wounded and fallen overboard!" shouted the captain of the pivot gun amidships.
The words were hardly out of his mouth, before another man dropped into the water from one of the ports. It was Tom Longstone. He found his young friend, and bearing him up with his strong arm, both were rescued from their perilous position.
"She shows the white flag! She surrenders!" was the cry, as the boatswain and Somers reached the deck.
The young officer was borne to the ward-room at the moment of victory, while the cheers of the brave tars were ringing through the fleet.
The Tennessee and the Selma had surrendered, the Gaines had been driven ashore, and the Morgan was for the present safe under the guns of the fort. The victory was complete and decisive.
Somers was severely, if not dangerously, injured. He was borne tenderly to his state-room by his brother officers, as the cheers for the great victory were sounding through the fleet. There had been seven men killed andthirty-five wounded on board the Chatauqua. The surgeon was in the cockpit, busily engaged in attending to the wounds of the poor fellows, and could not immediately examine the young officer, who, it was evident, required no surgical operation.
The ship, though considerably cut up by the shots from the fort and from the rebel steamers, was still in condition for active service. The fleet anchored in the bay, out of the reach of the guns of Fort Morgan. Officers were busy in making the necessary surveys, and the men were occupied in repairing damages and restoring order about the decks and rigging.
"How do you feel, Mr. Somers?" asked Mr. Hackleford, entering the sufferer's room, as soon as he could leave the deck.
"I do not suffer much pain, sir; but I am afraid I am badly damaged in the hull," replied Somers, with a languid smile.
He was very pale, and lay very still. He was numb from the effects of the shock given him by the splinter, and some of the functions of his frame seemed to be suspended. The first lieutenant was alarmed, and sent a second messenger for the surgeon, who presently made his appearance, having disposed of the severest cases in the cockpit.
"What do you think of him, doctor?" asked Mr. Hackleford.
"I fear he is badly injured," replied Dr. De Plesion, shaking his head.
"Dangerously?" whispered the first lieutenant.
The surgeon shook his head.
"Speak out, doctor," said the patient, faintly. "I am not afraid to die for my country. Please tell me the truth."
"I cannot tell yet, Mr. Somers. Three of the ribs are fractured, but if he is not injured internally, he will do very well," added the surgeon, to Mr. Hackleford.
"I have but little pain," said the patient.
"You will have more, Mr. Somers, by night," continued Dr. De Plesion. "I do not discover any internal injury."
"I hope there is none," said the first lieutenant. "You are too good an officer to be spared, Mr. Somers,—I mean for even a brief period, of course."
The report of the surgeon was anxiously awaited by the captain and all the ward-room officers, for the third lieutenant had been a universal favorite, and his capture of the Ben Lomond, and his gallant conduct during the action with the forts and the Tennessee, had not diminished his popularity. Of all who waited the doctor's decision, none took the matter so much to heart as the boatswain, who had saved him from drowning while he was helpless in the water. Mr. Hackleford noticed him at his duty, still wet to the skin, and kindly gave him permission to visit his young friend.
"I shall not go by the board, Tom," said Somers. "You and I may yet make another cruise together."
"Thank God! I hope so," exclaimed the boatswain, encouraged by these cheerful words.
"Tom, I owe my life to you."
"O, never mind that, my darling! What would I have done if you had slipped your wind?"
"You would have done your duty, as you always do, my good fellow."
"I dare say I should, Mr. Somers, but I can only thank God that you are alive now," replied the boatswain, as the tears flowed down his bronzed cheek, and he turned to leave the room.
IN THE HOSPITAL.
Under the arrangement made by Admiral Farragut with the commander of Fort Morgan, the wounded of both sides were sent in the Metacomet to Pensacola. Somers was of the number, and he was borne from his berth in the Chatauqua to the steamer, though the removal caused him great pain. The numbness of his side was beginning to pass away, and the parts to become very sensitive.
"Mr. Somers, I am sorry to see you in this condition," said "Brave Old Salt," who was present with a kind word for the suffering heroes of the battle. "You behaved nobly during the fight, as I am told you always do."
"Thank you, sir. You are very kind," moaned Somers, in his pain and weakness.
"I have not forgotten you, my brave fellow," continued the admiral. "The capture of the Ben Lomond was a matter of more consequence than you can appreciate, perhaps; and your faith and skill in doing this work entitle you to the gratitude of your country."
"I am happy in having merited your approbation."
"You have behaved gallantly in the action; and, I repeat, you shall be remembered. What can I do for you, Mr. Somers?"
"Nothing more for me, admiral. You have done more for me now than I deserve. Mr. Longstone, the boatswain of the Chatauqua, who saved my life—"
"I know all about him, Mr. Somers. He was your right-hand man in the capture of the Ben Lomond."
"He was, sir."
"He shall not be forgotten."
"I have already been rewarded more than I deserve—"
"No, you haven't. Mr. Pillgrim promised you a lieutenant's commission, if you brought out his steamer. I ratify that promise. As to the boatswain, it is a pity he is not an educated man; but he shall be cared for."
"Thank you, sir."
But Somers was too faint to talk any longer, and the admiral passed to other of the noble fellows who had been wounded on that eventful day. The sufferer's cot was placed on the ward-room floor, for the state-rooms and berths were already full. In one of them lay Admiral Buchanan, who had commanded the rebel fleet. He had been wounded in the leg in the battle, and he had lost the battle itself, which, to a proud, brave spirit, was worse than losing a leg.
Somers was now suffering the most intense pain, which he bore like a hero. Tom Longstone bent tenderly over him, his eyes filled with tears, and uttered his adieus. With a hand as gentle as a woman's, he pillowed his head on the couch, and smoothed back his hair from his eyes. He would gladly have gone with his wounded friend, to lave his fevered brow and speak words of comfort and encouragement to him; but neither of them thought of such a thing, for the admiral's fleet was in the enemy's waters, and every man was needed at his post.
The Metacomet, having received her precious freight of mangled heroes, cast off her moorings, and, passing the fort, turned her prow to the eastward. On her arrival at Pensacola, the sufferers were transferred to the hospital, where they received every attention which willing hands and generous hearts could bestow.
Fort Morgan surrendered to the combined forces of the army and navy before the end of the month, and Mobile Bay was in undisputed possession of the government. The work undertaken by the brave admiral had been fully completed. Mobile was now a cipher, so far as the Confederacy was concerned, though a great bluster was made of defending it to the last.
Somers had been three weeks in the hospital, and doubtless owed his life to the skill of the surgeon and the attentions of the nurses. He had been injured internally, as Dr. De Plesion feared; but he had begun toimprove, though he was still unable to sit up. He had endured the severest pain, and the doctor had not concealed from him his fears of a fatal result, because the patience and firmness, but especially the religious faith, of the sufferer warranted him in doing so.
Day after day and night after night Somers struggled with his condition, in faith, patience, and resignation. He felt that he was ready to leave the world, full of joys and hopes as it was, for the purer hopes and brighter joys of the eternal world beyond the grave. He thought of his mother, and wished that she might be with him to smooth his dying pillow, if he must die; but it was not the will of God, and he did not murmur. He thought of Kate Portington. He would like to see her once more before he passed away, but this was a vain wish; and from her and the loved ones at home he turned to the glorious realities of the immortal life—fitting theme for one who was trembling between life and death.
In the midst of his pain and earthly loneliness he was happy. He could not but recall the scene of Phil Kennedy's death-bed; of the agony of remorse which shook him, as he looked back upon his past life; of the terrors with which his stricken conscience invested the grave. Then the sufferer, in the deepest depths of his heart, thanked God that he had been enabled to be true to himself and to duty. He was happy in the past, happy in the hope of the future. There was much to regret andto repent of; but as he did regret and repent, he felt that he was forgiven.
He was happy; and the joy of that hour, when an approving conscience triumphs over bodily pain, and decks the waiting tomb with flowers, was worth the struggle with the legions of temptations which all must encounter.
We are best fitted to live when best prepared to die. Somers waited with hope and resignation for the angel of death, but he came not. The very calmness with which he regarded the open tomb, assisted in closing its portals to him. At the end of two weeks the doctor spoke more of life than of death; at the end of three he spoke not at all of the grim messenger—grim he was, even when he wore the chaplet of flowers with which Faith and Hope ever crown him.
Somers was out of danger. The internal inflammation passed away, and the patient began to mend. He thought of life now, of meeting the loved ones who, afar off, had sadly spoken farewells to him when he departed from their presence, with all the fearful perils of storm and battle hanging over him.
On the day after the news of the surrender of Fort Morgan arrived, the Chatauqua dropped her anchor off Pensacola. A boat immediately put off from her, containing Boatswain Longstone, who landed, and hastened to the hospital with all possible speed. Probably therehad hardly been an hour since the Metacomet left Mobile Bay with the wounded, in which Tom had not thought of Somers. The old man was as eager and impatient as a child, and could hardly submit to the formalities necessary to procure admission to the hospital.
"My darling!" exclaimed the veteran, as he crept up to the bed of his young friend.
He walked lightly, and spoke softly and tenderly, for he knew how sick Somers had been.
"Ah, Tom, I am glad to see you," replied the patient, as he extended his thin hand, which the boatswain eagerly seized, though he handled it as tenderly as a bashful youth does the hand of the maiden he loves. "It does my eyes good to look upon you, Tom."
"Jack, I've been dying to see you. They told me you were in a bad way, and might slip your cable any moment."
"I have not expected to live, until a week ago."
"God bless you, Jack! I was never so happy in my life;" and the boatswain actually wept,—great, strong, weather-stained veteran as he was, who had breasted the storms of four and thirty years on the ocean.
"I know how you feel, Tom."
"So you may, Jack,—I beg pardon, Mr.—"
"Call me Jack, now," interposed Somers, with a faint smile; "it sounds like old times. You have been the making of me, Tom, and we won't stand on ceremony, as long as we are not on board the ship."
The boatswain still held the attenuated hand of his sick friend, and they talked of the past and of the present; of the battle, and of the subsequent events in the bay. But Tom Longstone seemed to be thinking all the time of something else.
"What have you got on, Tom?" asked Somers, as he noticed a "foul anchor" on his shoulder, and a band of gold lace on his sleeve.
"What have I got on? Why, I always wear my colors, of course," replied Tom, with a smile of the deepest satisfaction.
"But those are not the colors of a boatswain in the United States Navy."
"That's a fact, Jack. I'm not a boatswain, just now."
"Indeed!"
"I'm an acting ensign."
"Is it possible?" exclaimed Somers, not less pleased than the veteran.
"It's a fact, my darling; but before we spin any more yarns, here's a document for you. Shall I open it?" continued Tom, as he took from his breast pocket a huge official envelope, whose appearance was entirely familiar to Somers.
"If you please."
It was directed to "Lieutenant John Somers;" and the superscription sufficiently indicated the nature of its contents.
"God bless the admiral!" said Somers.
"God bless the admiral!" repeated Tom, glancing reverently upward as he spoke.
The commission was dated before the news of the battle in Mobile Bay could have reached Washington. It followed the reception of the despatches concerning the capture of the Ben Lomond; and Tom Longstone had been made an acting ensign, though he still retained his warrant as a boatswain, for his conduct in the same affair.
"I congratulate you, Tom, on this promotion," said Somers.
"Thank you, Jack; and I congratulate you as Lieutenant Somers. You are a 'regular,' but I'm only an 'acting,'" replied the veteran. "When the war's over, I shall be a boatswain again."
"I am more rejoiced for you than for myself, Tom."
"Just like you, Jack. If I made you, I'm sure you made me. I got my rating as boatswain's mate in the Rosalie through you, and then I was made a boatswain for what I did with you. Now I'm an ensign by your doings. I suppose you think I'm not up to it, Jack."
"Yes, I do. I know you are. There's nothing about a ship that you don't know as well as the admiral himself, except—"
"Except," laughed Tom, as Somers paused, "except what?"
"Navigation."
"I know something about that, Jack—I do, upon my honor."
"I do not doubt it."
"When I first went into the navy, I was a regular sea dandy. I used big words, as long as the coach-whip; but I soon found a man must not talk above his station. When I was a young man, I wasn't a bad scholar. I went to the academy, and learned surveying; I meant to be a surveyor; but I got a hitch, and went to sea."
"A hitch?"
"Well, I never mention it now. Squire Kent's daughter didn't treat me as handsomely as she did another young fellow, and I drank more liquor than was good for me. I got run down; and when I had payed out all the respectability I had, I went to sea. That cured me of drinking; in fact, I became a temperance man before the grog rations were stopped in the navy. As I said, I was pretty well educated, and talked as well as the officers on the quarter deck. But my shipmates laughed at me, and I soon dropped down into using sea slang."
"I have noticed that your speech has been wonderfully improved since you were made a boatswain."
"I've been trying to cure my bad habits. I've been lying round loose in the navy for thirty years before the war began. I tried to be honest and true, but the warhas set me right up. I haven't told you the best of the news yet, Jack."
"What more?"
"You are appointed to the Ben Lomond as prize master, and I'm going with you as second officer. The admiral says you shall take the prize home, if she has to wait two months for you. She is yours, and you shall have the command of her."
"He is very kind; but I do not think I shall be able to take command at present."
"We are to go as soon as the doctor will let you be carried on board of her. Jack, the Ben Lomond is going into the navy; and if I mistake not, she will be in command of Lieutenant Somers."
"That would be the height of my ambition. Indeed, I never aspired to anything so great as the command of a fine steamer."
"You'll have her; the admiral is your friend. If you do, I shall be in the ward-room. Splinter my timber-heads! Only think of that! Tom Longstone a ward-room officer!"
"You deserve it, Tom."
In the course of the week, other officers of the Chatauqua visited the patient, and at the end of that period the doctor permitted Somers to be conveyed on board the Ben Lomond.
MISS PORTINGTON NOT AT HOME.
Pillgrim and Langdon had been in close confinement at Pensacola since their capture. They were now placed on board of the Ben Lomond to be sent north. An apartment was specially fitted up for their use in the steerage, for they were regarded as dangerous men, to whom bolts, bars, and other obstacles, were but trifling impediments. A sufficient number of marines to guard them were detailed for duty on the passage, and the steamer sailed for Boston, where the prize was to be adjusted.
Somers was now improving very rapidly, and before he left the hospital, had sat up a small portion of each day. The pleasant intelligence brought to him by Tom Longstone had not retarded his recovery; on the contrary, the bright hopes of the future which it suggested, rather stimulated his feeble frame, and assisted in his restoration to health.
The steamer had fine weather on the passage, with the exception of a gale of thirty hours' duration. She putinto Hampton Roads, and landed her prisoners at Fortress Monroe, in accordance with the orders of her commander, and then proceeded to Boston. The Ben Lomond behaved remarkably well in the heavy weather she experienced, proving herself to be a strongly-built and substantial vessel. Somers sent his despatches to Washington from Fortress Monroe.
When the Ben Lomond sailed into Boston Harbor, Somers was able to go on deck, for with each day of the voyage his health had continued to improve. The steamer was duly handed over to the naval authorities, and the young lieutenant was granted a furlough of sixty days.
"Our cruise is up," said Tom Longstone, when the business had been completed.
"For the present, we have nothing to do; but I hope we shall soon receive our orders," replied Somers. "Now, Tom, you will go down to Pinchbrook with me, and spend a couple of months."
"Thank you, Jack; I hardly think I should know how to behave in a house on shore, it is so long since I have been in one."
"You will soon learn."
They went to Pinchbrook, and Tom received a welcome almost as cordial as that extended to Somers. The veteran was soon made entirely at home by his young friend's father, and such a "spinning of yarns" forthirty days had never been known before. Tom told a story of the Cumberland; then Captain Somers had a West India yarn; and gran'ther Greene was indulgently permitted to relate his experience in the "last war," though it was observed that the old man, whose memory was much impaired, always told the same story.
Never did a happier trio gather around a kitchen fire than that which sat around the cook-stove at Pinchbrook on those autumn mornings. Very likely Mrs. Somers thought the "men folks" were in the way at times; but, she was too much interested in the stories told, and too good natured to raise an objection, especially when John joined the party.
In the mean time, Somers was rapidly regaining his health and strength. As may be supposed, he was a lion in Pinchbrook, and was invited to every party and every merry-making in the place. Captain Barney was with him a great deal, and was as fond of him as though he had been his own son. Of course the young ladies of Pinchbrook regarded the lieutenant as a great man; and if it had not been known in town that he was "paying attention" to a commodore's daughter, he might have been absolutely persecuted by the fair ones of his native village.
In strict observance of his promise, Somers had written several letters to Kate Portington, but had received no answer. These epistles, with the exception of an occasionalplayful remark, were confined to the details of his naval operations. The events of his career were faithfully recorded, and they were in no sense such productions as many silly young men would have written under similar circumstances. No answer to any of them had been received.
Since his arrival at Pinchbrook, Somers had written two letters; but at the end of the first month of his furlough, he had not heard a word from Kate. He was troubled, and no doubt thought Kate was very cold and cruel. He knew that Pillgrim had not seen her, and therefore could not have prejudiced her against him. It was possible that his letters had not reached their destination; Kate might be away from home; and he was not willing to believe that anything had occurred to make her less friendly to him than formerly.
Somers, as we have so often had occasion to represent him, was always in favor of "facing the music." If there was anything the matter, he wanted to know it. If the lady wished to discontinue the acquaintance, he wanted to know that; and when he could no longer content himself in Pinchbrook, with the question unsettled, he started for Newport. On his arrival he proceeded at once to the residence of Commodore Portington. With a firm hand he rang the bell—in surprising contrast with his first visit, for now he was firm and decided.
The servant informed him that Miss Portington was athome, and he sent up his card. Somers sat nervously waiting the issue. Presently the servant returned and handed him a card, on which was written, "Miss Portington is not at home to Mr. John Somers."
He was confounded by this cool reply. Though her present conduct was in accordance with the unanswered letters, he had not expected to be thus rudely repelled. If she had any objection to him, why didn't she tell him so? He had done his duty to his country, and kept his promises to her. It was the severest blow he had ever received.
He read the card, rose from his chair, and left the house, as dignified as though he had been on the quarter deck of the Ben Lomond. He was too proud to ask or to offer any explanations. We will not undertake to say how bad he felt. Perhaps he wished he had died in the Pensacola hospital, when he lay at death's door; perhaps he felt like rushing into the hottest of a fight, and laying down his life for the cause he had espoused, without thinking that this would be suicide, rather than a generous sacrifice to a holy duty.
Mr. Pillgrim had informed him that he would meet with a "chilly" reception. It was even worse than that; but as it was evidently caused by the traitor's machinations, he was content to suffer. If she chose to let the words of the wretched conspirator against his country bias her against him, he could not help it; andhis only remaining duty was to submit with the best possible grace.
Of course he could not leave Newport without calling at the Naval Academy. Mr. Revere, the commandant of midshipmen, was his firm friend, and it would be treason to him to leave the city without seeing him. He was cordially received, and his experience in Mobile Bay was listened to with the most friendly interest.
"I need not ask you if you have been to Commodore Portington's," said Mr. Revere.
"I have, sir."
"Well, how is Miss Portington?"
"I did not see her," replied Somers, who, conscious that he had done no wrong, was not disposed to conceal his misfortune from so good a friend.
"Did not see her!" exclaimed the commandant.
Somers explained.
The story of Pillgrim's treason had been circulated, but the particulars by which it had been exposed were known to only a few. Mr. Revere saw at once the cause of the rupture.
"The villain has sent her the bond you signed," said he.
"Perhaps he has."
"Probably she knows nothing of the circumstances under which you signed it."
"I have had no opportunity to explain."
"But, Somers, you musn't be too stiff. Any lady would be fully justified in refusing to see a gentleman who signed a paper like that, which contained her name in such a connection."
"I think so myself; and therefore I will not blame her."
"Pillgrim got you to sign that document for this very purpose."
"I surmised as much."
"But it is a wrong to the lady as well as to you, to permit this thing to go on."
"I have no remedy."
"Write her a note, explaining your position."
"My motives would be misconstrued."
"Then I shall act for you."
Somers went to his hotel, and Mr. Revere did act it for him. Kate was not satisfied. A high-minded man would have died rather than sign such a paper. So would Somers, if the bond had any real meaning. The commandant was not successful in the negotiation, as mediators seldom are in such cases.
"I am satisfied, Mr. Revere," said Somers: but he was as far from satisfied as a young man could be.
"There is no help for it; but, Somers, I have invited a few friends to my house this evening, and you must be with us."
"Will Miss Portington be there?"
"She has been invited, with her mother."
"I will go," replied he, still carrying out his principle that it is always best to "face the music."
He did go. The few friends were about fifty—to celebrate the birthday of the commandant's lady. There were music, and dancing, and revelry; and Kate Portington was there, with her mother. He saw the fair girl; saw her smile as pleasantly and unconcernedly as though nothing had happened. He met her face to face; she bowed coldly, and passed on. Mrs. Portington was not quite so "chilly," but not at all as she had been in former times.
"Mr. Somers, we shall always remember you with gratitude, for the service you so kindly rendered us," said she.
"It is hardly worth remembering, madam, much less mentioning," replied Somers.
"It shall always be gratefully remembered, and cordially mentioned. You cannot yourself regret more than I do, that anything should have occurred to disturb the pleasant relations which formerly existed."
"I regret it very much, madam; but as I think I have done my duty to my country and to my friends, I must regret it without reproaching myself for my conduct in that which has proved so offensive."
"Was it your duty to sign that vile paper?" asked the lady, in excited tones.
"I think it was."
"I must take a different view of the matter; but, Mr. Somers, I shall still be interested in your success."
"Thank you, madam."
And the lady passed on. Somers looked at Kate. She was dancing with a young officer who had greatly distinguished himself in the waters of North Carolina. She looked happy. Was she so? She certainly had a wonderful command of herself if she was not. Somers retired at an early hour.
Did Kate think he was an adventurer? His superior officer had directed him to sign the bond, as a "war measure." He had done so with regret and disgust. The paper meant nothing to him. Why should it mean anything to her and her mother?
The next day, Somers returned to Pinchbrook, where he found certain official documents in the post office, directed to him. He was appointed to the command of the Firefly, which was the new name given by the department to the Ben Lomond. The steamer had been duly condemned, and purchased by the government, her great speed admirably adapting her as a cruiser for rebel pirates. Somers was generously rewarded for his zeal and success in the capture of the twin steamers, which had been intended to prey on the commerce of the country.
Acting Ensign Longstone was appointed second lieutenantof the Firefly. The third and fourth lieutenants, and the sailing master, were acting ensigns, like Tom Longstone.