He had hardly spoken when theCumberlandlisted badly over to port and began to fill. Down sank the gallant ship, driving her crew to the spar-deck, where they dauntlessly continued to work the pivot-gun, until, with a wild swaying of her tall masts and a sickening shudder of her shattered frame, she plunged beneath the waves, carrying her brave defenders down to an honourable death, yet leaving the Union colours still floating defiantly from her topmast, which projected high above the swirling water.
For the first moment after her disappearance there was an appalling silence on board theMinnesota, and then there broke forth a wild storm of groans, cheers, and curses, as the feelings of her crew found expression. They had witnessed a catastrophe without a parallel in the history of naval warfare. Never before had the tremendous power for harm of the ironclad ram been displayed, and by that one blow theMerrimachad put out of date the navies of the world as then constructed.
Of course Terry neither knew nor cared anything about this; but he could not help being profoundly impressed by the magnitude of the disaster, and his warm Irish heart went out in sympathy towards the gallant men who had stood by their ship to the last moment. In his admiration of their bravery he quite forgot his preference for their victorious opponents.
"O captain," he exclaimed, in a tone of deepest concern, plucking at his companion's arm, "will you look at the poor creatures? Sure they're doing their best to swim ashore, and it's a long way for them too."
His sharp eyes had discovered little bits of black bobbing on the waves, which he took to be the heads of men swimming hard for the beach at Newport News, and the lieutenant's glass confirmed the accuracy of his vision.
"Wouldn't I like to be giving them a hand!" he continued, jumping up and down in the heat of his excitement. He felt so thoroughly at home in the water, that he would not have hesitated a moment at any time to go to the rescue of a full-grown man, and he would have thoroughly enjoyed now going to the relief of the struggling sailors.
But the men of theMinnesotahad other work on hand than giving aid to their imperilled countrymen. For aught they knew the ironclad would next be trying her terrible ram on them, and they had need to prepare for her onset.
Having disposed of the ill-fatedCumberland, theMerrimacnow gave her whole attention to theCongress, whose commander, realizing the impossibility of resisting the assault of the ram, had, with notable presence of mind, slipped his cables and run his ship aground upon the shallows, where the deep-draught ironclad could not follow her except with cannon-balls.
Although theCongresshad four times as many guns as theMerrimac, and was well supported besides by the land batteries on Newport News, it was an unequal contest; for while the projectiles showered upon the ironclad glanced harmlessly off her cannon-proof walls, her powerful rifled guns raked theCongressfrom end to end with terrible effect.
There could be only one termination to such a struggle. Gallantly as the Northern sailors served their guns, their commander presently was killed, and her decks were strewn with dead and dying. At the end of an hour her colours came down, and white flags appeared at the gaff and mainmast in token of surrender.
Meanwhile theMerrimachad been joined by a number of smaller vessels that had come down the James River after running in gallant style the gauntlet of the Federal batteries which lined the northern bank. They were only gunboats carrying ten guns at the most, and could not take any prominent part in the battle, but they now proved useful in completing the work of the ironclad.
Two of them steamed alongside the shatteredCongress, to make prisoners of the crew and set fire to the ship. But they were unable to accomplish either of these duties owing to the heavy fire kept up by the land batteries, and had to beat a retreat; whereupon theMerrimacsent hot shot into the frigate, that soon had her blazing fore and aft, while her crew escaped on shore either by swimming or in small boats.
All this was watched with keen anxiety on board theMinnesota, and the question her men asked themselves was,—
"Will theMerrimacbe content with the damage she has already done, or will our ship share the same fate as the other two?"
They were not left long in uncertainty. Swinging slowly around, the huge ironclad, after pausing a few minutes as though to take breath, came down the channel heading straight for theMinnesota. Her day's work was evidently not yet done. She must have another victim before returning to her moorings.
When Terry saw the ugly black ironclad bearing down upon theMinnesota, he could not suppress a cry of consternation.
"Oh, whirra! whirra!" he burst forth, dancing from one foot to the other, and swinging his arms about in the extremity of his excitement, "the murderin' thing is coming right for us, and it's smashing us to bits entirely she'll be."
That the captain of the frigate held the same opinion, however differently he might have expressed it, was soon manifest from the manoeuvring of his ship; for instead of remaining out in the north channel, where there was sufficient depth of water for theMerrimacto move freely, he turned his vessel's bow seaward, and kept on in that direction until she had grounded on a shoal about midway between Fortress Monroe and Newport News Point.
All danger from the irresistible ram was now over, as the ironclad could not approach within some hundreds of yards without getting aground herself, which would have put an end to her career; so those on board theMinnesotabegan to pluck up courage again. Even Terry felt more composed when he realized that the "murderin' thing," as he called it, had to keep a respectful distance.
But they were not permitted to enjoy this little bit of comfort long. The big frigate, towering high above the water, offered only too easy a target to the rifled guns of theMerrimac, and presently their destructive missiles began to come crashing through her wooden sides as though they had been paper, inflicting fearful damage and slaughter.
Yet nothing daunted by the immediate presence of danger and death, the men of theMinnesotaplied their own formidable battery; and although the cannon-balls' bounced harmlessly off the impregnable sides of the ironclad, they did their work against her attendant gunboats, so that both had ere long to retire from the combat.
The decks of the frigate soon presented a pitiable sight. The heavy guns of theMerrimachad again and again raked them with dreadful effect, and the dead and the dying lay strewn about, confused with splintered beams and shattered gun-carriages. The ship's surgeons, recking nothing of their own danger, were busy binding up wounds, and having the poor sufferers borne below; while through the smoke-laden air rang the shouts of those still serving the guns, mingled with the groans of their comrades writhing in agony.
In the midst of it all was Terry. When the first shot struck the bulwarks of the frigate, and smashing its way through slew three stalwart sailors and badly wounded two others, he threw himself flat on the deck behind the foremast, completely overcome with sheer horror and fright. There he remained for some minutes, every boom of the cannon sending fresh shudders through his boyish frame.
Presently, amid the occasional pauses in the thunder of the artillery, a moaning cry reached his ear: "Water, water! for God's sake a drop of water!" He had heard it several times before, even in his warm fresh heart, the impulse to help began to tell upon the paralyzing panic that had smitten him. But when, for the fourth time, the piteous wail pierced its way to him, "Oh for water! Won't some one bring me water?" he could lie still no longer.
Getting upon his hands and knees—for he did not dare rise to his full height—he crept across the deck to where the sufferer lay. He found a young sailor, not many years older than himself, dreadfully wounded by a cannon-ball, and suffering agonies from thirst. He was half-hidden by an overturned gun-carriage, and had been overlooked by the surgeon in the wild confusion.
"Water! water!" he panted, looking at Terry with imploring eyes, for he could not move a limb. "For the love of God, bring me some water!"
Terry knew well enough where the water-butts were, but to reach them meant his running the gauntlet of shot and splinter, whose dreadful effects lay all about him. Naturally he shrank from the risk, and looked around in hopes of seeing some of the crew who might undertake it.
But all who were not alreadyhors de combathad their hands full. Whatever was to be done for the poor young fellow must be done by him. The next wail for water decided him. Bending his head as though he were facing a snowstorm, he darted across the deck to the water-butts. Right at hand was a pannikin. Hastily filling it, he retraced his steps, going more slowly now because of his burden, and had just got half-way when a heavy ball smashed into the bulwarks at his left, sending out a heavy shower of splinters, one of which struck the pannikin from his hand, spilling its precious contents upon the deck.
It was a hair-breadth escape, and Terry dropped to the deck as though he had been struck. But this was the end of his panic. So soon as he realized that he was untouched, he sprang to his feet again, and shaking his fist in the direction of theMerrimac, cried defiantly, "You didn't do it that time. Try it again, will ye? I'll carry the water in spite of ye!" Then picking up the pannikin he refilled it, and this time succeeded in bearing it safely to the sufferer, who, when he had taken a long, deep draught, looked into the boy's face, saying gratefully,—
"God bless you for that, even if you are a little rebel at heart."
Not until then did Terry recognize in the man he was helping the sailor whose ire he had aroused by refusing to enter into the ship's service, and his heart glowed at the thought that he had shown him that he could not refuse an appeal for aid even from him.
Throughout the rest of that awful afternoon Terry toiled like a beaver, bearing water to the wounded and to those working the guns, and earning countless blessings from the grateful sailors. He seemed to bear a charmed life. Men fell all round him, while he went unscathed. Again and again the surgeon thanked him for his timely assistance. In spite of all the peril, he never felt happier in his life. He was completely lifted out of himself, and intoxicated with the joy of whole-souled service for others.
As the afternoon advanced, the situation of theMinnesotabecame increasingly desperate. Of course, being aground, she could not sink; but the rifled guns of theMerrimachad torn great gaping holes in her high sides. She had lost many of her men, and had once been set on fire. Indeed, her surrender or destruction seemed inevitable, when a diversion took place which postponed either unhappy alternative for that day at all events.
Besides theMinnesota, there were two other Federal frigates lying in Hampton Roads, theRoanokeand theSt. Lawrence, and they likewise had been run aground for fear of the terrible ram. As if satisfied with the damage done to theMinnesota, and confident that no escape was possible for her, theMerrimacnow gave attention to her two consorts, and proceeded to bombard them with her heavy guns.
They returned broadsides with great spirit, and the cannonade continued vigorously on both sides, until an ebbing tide and oncoming darkness warned those in command of the deep-draught ironclad that it was full time to be taking her back towards Norfolk. Accordingly she drew off, and after a couple of parting shots from her stern pivot-guns, steamed slowly back to Sewell's Point, where she anchored for the night.
Unspeakable was the relief on board the three frigates at her withdrawal, and relieved from duty at the guns, their crews at once set to work to repair damages as best they might, knowing full well that they had respite only until daylight.
Terry continued his errands of mercy until his help was no longer required; then, after getting something to eat, he went up to his favourite place in the bow, utterly tired out, and threw himself down to rest.
Here Captain Afleck found him, and together they talked over the events of the day. The captain had not been quite so fortunate as Terry, having received a painful, though not serious, scalp wound. He made light of it, however, and had much to say in praise of his companion for his brave service as a helper of the wounded.
"You'll be the talk of the town, my boy, when we get back to Halifax," said he. "Ye've seen more than any lad of your age in the country, I can tell you; and it's a great story you'll have to tell them at Drummond and Brown's when you take your place there again."
A happy smile lit up Terry's face, so begrimed with powder smoke that the multitudinous freckles were no longer distinguishable. He had quite forgotten Halifax and all belonging to it in the excitement of the battle; but Captain Afleck's words brought his thoughts back, and the idea of his being a kind of hero at Drummond and Brown's, where now they probably considered him little better than a rascal, was exceedingly grateful.
He was just about to say something in reply, when his attention was claimed by the wonderful scene now before his eyes; and clasping Captain Afleck's arm, he exclaimed, in a tone of mingled awe and admiration, "Just look, will ye, captain! did ye ever see the like of that in your life before?"
By this time night had fallen mild and calm. The moon in her second quarter was just rising over the rippling waters, but her silvery light for those on board theMinnesotapaled in the presence of the brilliant illumination proceeding from the burning frigateCongress. As the flames crept up the rigging, every mast, spar, and rope flashed out in fiery silhouette against the dark sky beyond. The hull, aground upon the shoal, was plainly visible, each porthole showing in the black sides like the mouth of a fiery furnace, while from time to time the boom of a loaded gun, or the crash of an exploded shell, gave startling emphasis to the superb spectacle.
Having no duty to perform, the captain and Terry could give themselves up to watching the destruction of the noble vessel, and they stayed at the bow until presently a monstrous sheaf of flame rose from her to an immense height. The sky seemed rent in twain by a blinding flash, and then came a loud, deafening report that told the whole story. The flames had reached the powder-magazine, and their work was complete.
In the silence that followed, Captain Afleck, taking Terry's hand, said with a profound sigh, "Come, Terry, let us get to sleep. It breaks my heart to see a fine ship blown to bits like that."
They went below, and finding a quiet corner, threw themselves down to get what rest they could before facing the dangers of another day.
On going on deck the next morning, Terry's attention was at once attracted by the sailors bending over the bulwarks of the ship, evidently much interested in something that lay alongside. Following their example, he saw below an extraordinary-looking craft, which might not inaptly have been compared to a huge tin can set on a gigantic shingle.
It was none other than the famousMonitor, an even more remarkable vessel than theMerrimac, which had come post-haste from New York, and arrived just in time to do battle with the hitherto irresistible rebel ram.
Little as Terry pretended to know about war-ships, he felt quite competent not merely to wonder but to laugh at this latest addition to the Federal fleet; she seemed so absurdly inadequate to cope with the big powerfulMerrimac. A flat iron-plated raft with pointed ends, bearing in the middle a round turret not ten feet high, also plated with iron, and at the bow a small square iron hut for use as a pilot-house; while from the round port-holes in the turret projected the muzzles of two eleven-inch rifled guns, which constituted her entire armament. Such was theMonitor.
He was still engaged in studying this queer-looking craft, and feeling sorely tempted to ask some questions of the men who were busy about her decks getting her ready for action, when the crash of a heavy ball against the other side of theMinnesotatold him that theMerrimachad already come over from Sewell's Point to complete her unfinished work.
It was also the signal for theMonitorto move out from her hiding-place behind the lofty frigate. Like some strange sea-monster, she swung round the other's stern, and steaming forward so as to come between her and her assailant, dauntlessly challenged the latter to single combat.
Then there took place right before Terry's eyes a naval conflict without parallel in the history of the world, in every respect the most momentous battle ever waged upon the water. Of course, Terry did not realize this, but that did not in any wise lessen the breathless interest with which he watched every move and manoeuvre of the struggle.
For the first few minutes there was a pause, as though the two adversaries were surveying each other with a view of choosing the best method of attack. Then they began to advance cautiously until they had got well within range, when almost simultaneously they opened fire. This was at about eight o'clock in the morning, and thenceforward until noon the cannonading continued furiously, with hardly any intermission.
The ironclads fought like two gladiators in an arena, now closing in on each other until they were almost touching, then sheering off until they were half-a-mile apart. TheMonitorhad a great advantage over theMerrimacin that she drew only half as much water, and was consequently able to move about far more freely than her cumbrous opponent, who had to confine herself to the deep-water channel. Even as it was she once ran aground, and was with the greatest difficulty got afloat again.
Although Terry had come to Hampton Roads a warm little sympathizer with the South, his feelings had undergone considerable change as he observed the splendid bravery of the Northern sailors; and now, while he watched the contending ironclads, he found his heart going out towards the littleMonitorrather than towards the big blackMerrimac.
"Sure it doesn't seem fair play at all," he exclaimed to Captain Afleck, in a decided tone of indignation. "That small little thing's no match for the big fellow. There ought to be two of them anyhow to make it even."
But the captain, noting the advantage held by theMonitor, and the fact that the bombardment of her antagonist had no more effect upon her coat of mail than had hers upon theMerrimac, shook his head doubtfully.
"It's a more even fight than you think, Terry," said he, "and I'm not saying but what I'd be willing to bet on the little one yet. But see, they must be going to try to run her down, like they did theCumberland."
Sure enough, despairing of driving her doughty opponent off the field with broadsides, theMerrimacdetermined to try the effect of her ram. For nearly an hour she had been manoeuvring for a position, and at last an opportunity offered. Putting on full speed, she charged forcibly down; but just in time theMonitorturned aside, and the ram glanced off without doing any damage.
At seeing this Terry clapped his hands as heartily as if he had been a thorough-going Yankee.
"Sold again!" he cried, as theMerrimacsullenly sheered off. "You're not so smart after all."
The firing continued for some time longer, and then those on board theMinnesotawere startled to see theMonitorcoming back towards them with all the appearance of withdrawing from the fight. The Merrimac could not follow on account of the shallowness of the water, but remained out in the channel awaiting the other's return. Instead of returning, however, theMonitorswung round, and steamed off in the direction of Fortress Monroe, leaving the helplessMinnesotaat the mercy of the enemy.
"O Captain Afleck!" cried Terry, in keen alarm, "what will become of us now? That murderin' thing will smash us all to pieces, seein' there's nothing to hinder it."
The situation of theMinnesotacertainly was as serious as it could well be. Many of the guns had been rendered useless in the conflict of the preceding day. Full half of the crew were killed or wounded, and most of the officers were unfit for duty. If theMerrimacshould resume her work of destruction, there was slight chance of any one on board surviving the catastrophe.
For some minutes theMinnesota'smen were kept in harrowing uncertainty as theMerrimachung off to mid-stream, apparently undecided as to what to do next. Then, to their unspeakable relief, she swung round, and turning her prow towards Norfolk, moved heavily away. She, too, like theMonitor, had had her fill of fighting for that day.
At sight of this Terry tossed his cap in the air, and began an Irish jig on the fore-deck, crying,—
"Be off with you now. Sure, you've done mischief enough this blessed day. It's mighty glad I'd be never to see a sight of you again."
As it turned out he had his wish granted, for when the withdrawal of the ironclad became known at Fortress Monroe, two of the gunboats in refuge there ventured out, and, attaching themselves to the stranded ship, succeeded with great difficulty, and the aid of a flood-tide, in getting her afloat again, and towing her down-stream to safe quarters under the guns of the fort.
The following morning both Terry and Captain Afleck were able to get ashore; and, rejoiced at regaining their liberty, they at once set about ascertaining how they might make their way back to Boston.
This was a problem by no means easily solved. They were both penniless and without friends, save such as they had made during their brief but exciting stay on board theMinnesota. Under other circumstances, no doubt, the captain of the frigate, as some reparation for running down theSea-Slipper, would have exerted himself to send them forward; but he, poor fellow, had been severely wounded in the fighting, and the other officers were too deeply engrossed in the pressing duties of the moment to give any attention to less important matters.
It was in this crisis that Terry's really daring and devoted services to the wounded during the thick of the battle brought forth fruit. He was wandering disconsolately about the beach at Fortress Monroe, wondering how he could make his way back to Halifax and set himself right at Drummond and Brown's, when one of theMinnesota'slieutenants came along, and hailed him pleasantly,—
"Where away, Terry? You look kind of down on your luck this morning."
"Indeed that I am, sir," responded Terry promptly. "I've just been axin' myself how I'm to get back to Halifax, and faith I can't make it out at all, at all."
"Oh, you want to get back to Halifax, do you?" said the lieutenant. "Well, I can't say about that, but it's only fair you should be sent back to Boston, for you would have been there long ago if we hadn't run you down, wouldn't you?"
"It's the truth you're sayin', sir!" answered Terry; "and," here an eager appealing look came into his face, "if you can say a word to the captain, sir, and have Captain Afleck and myself given a lift that way, it's more obliged than I can tell you we'd both be."
The lieutenant evidently took kindly to the suggestion, and clapping the boy on the back, he said,—
"I'll do it, Terry. You did us all a good turn on board theMinnesotaby taking water round when nobody could attend to it. Our captain's in hospital, but I'll speak to the officer in command in his place, and he'll do the square thing, I'm sure."
The lieutenant was as good as his word. He took considerable pains to press the matter, with the result that on the following day Captain Afleck and Terry were provided with railroad passes clear to Boston, and sufficient funds to pay their expensesen route.
They made a light-hearted pair, the big bronzed man and the freckle-faced boy, as they set out for Baltimore, rejoicing in getting away from the scenes of bloodshed and destruction, of which they had grown profoundly weary.
They were more than satisfied with their first experience of war in all its horrors, and quite content that it should be their last. Terry accurately expressed the feelings of both when he said, with a grunt of disgust that made his companion smile,—
"If you ever catch me in a scrape like this again, you may call me as many sizes of an idiot as you like. It is bad enough to be kilt in a row of your own raisin', but what's the sense of it when it's not your fight at all?"
By which deliverance Terry showed himself to be a true philosopher, with a very sound and practical theory of life. But, like many other mortals, Terry could teach a great deal better than he could practise, the truth being that the impulse of his race to take a hand in any fun or fighting that might be going was as strong in him as if he had been born on the green sod.
However, he was sincere enough this time, and regarded with complacence every additional mile of country that separated him from the scene of the wonderful naval combat he had by so odd a chain of circumstances been brought to witness.
As might be expected in time of war, when the whole country was more or less upset, the train service was very imperfect. The rate of speed was poor, the stoppages many and prolonged, and the carriages fell far short of being comfortable.
Yet none of these things troubled Terry. It was the first long railroad ride of his life, and he enjoyed it keenly despite its many drawbacks. He made friends with the conductors and brakesmen, who could not resist his cheery humour. He amused his fellow-passengers by his quick observation of and shrewd comments upon the people and places by the way. He even succeeded in so ingratiating himself with the driver of the train during a long stop at a junction, as to be invited on to the engine for the remainder of that driver's run, and then he returned to Captain Afleck grimy but triumphant.
"He succeeded in ingratiating himself with the driver of the train.""He succeeded in ingratiating himself with the driver of the train."
"He succeeded in ingratiating himself with the driver of the train.""He succeeded in ingratiating himself with the driver of the train."
From Baltimore to Philadelphia, and from Philadelphia to New York, they hurried on. Under other circumstances, they would have been glad to make a stay in each of these splendid cities; but Captain Afleck was impatient to get back to Boston to prepare his claim against the insurance company, while Terry was no less eager to return to Halifax, that he might reinstate himself in Drummond and Brown's.
Yet in spite of their mutual anxiety they were both destined to another delay which tried their spirits sorely.
The city of New York was at this time the centre of more interest and excitement than Washington itself. The issue of the war still seemed in doubt, and there were divided counsels as to whether it should be carried on to the bitter end, regardless of consequences, or whether some sort of compromise should be arranged with the South before further successes had inflated her hopes too high.
In the face of this uncertain state of the public mind, nevertheless, the most earnest preparations for the prosecution of the struggle by land and sea were going on, and this of course attracted to the place wild and turbulent spirits from every quarter, eager to take advantage of the opportunity to fill their pockets, honestly or dishonestly, with a decided preference for the latter way as being more exciting. Bounty-jumping was a favourite device, and the city fairly swarmed with men guilty of this dishonourable action, and who, afraid to show themselves in the light of day, prowled about the streets at night with no very good intent.
It was late in the evening when the captain and Terry arrived in New York, and as they had been without food, since mid-day, their first proceeding was to set out in quest of a restaurant. Captain Afleck knew something of the city, having been there before, and soon found his way to a quiet eating-house, where they obtained a comfortable meal at a reasonable price.
They took their time over it, for they were weary of the train, and it was quite a relief to be rid of the roar and rattle for a time. Midnight was not far off when they went out into the street, and feeling greatly refreshed, they were tempted into taking a stroll before returning to the station, where they intended to pass the night, so as to be on hand for the first train to Boston in the morning.
The night was fine and bright. The captain lit his pipe, while Terry munched some candy, and the two wandered on in a careless manner, enjoying the cold air and the quiet of the hour.
"It's a big place this, isn't it, Terry?" said the captain as they stood at an intersection of two streets, and looking north, south, east, and west, saw the long lines of lights go twinkling 'off as far as the eye could reach. "All the same, I believe I'd rather live in Halifax; wouldn't you?"
"That I would," responded Terry promptly. "I'd be afraid of gettin' lost here all the time. Sure, there must be a sight of people here. It's not much chance a poor chap like me 'ud have wid such a crowd."
Now that Terry's ambition had been so thoroughly aroused, he already began to realize what the stress of competition meant, and it was clear enough to him that the bigger the city the more there were ready to fill every opening. Miss Drummond's encouraging statement about her grandfather had taken deep hold upon the boy's mind, and there were times when he was bold enough to indulge in day-dreams having a similar fulfilment.
"I guess you'd stand as good a chance of holding your way as the most of boys, Terry," said Captain Afleck, giving him a kindly pat on the head. "You've got lots of grit in ye, and that's the sort of thing that counts in these big places. But what's that? There's mischief going on down there. Come, let's see what's up."
They were by this time on their way back to the railway station, and were just crossing a narrow dark side street, when there came to them through the stillness of the night a muffled cry for help, followed by the sound of heavy blows.
Captain Afleck carried a stout stick, and grasping this firmly, he sped down the street in the direction whence the sounds had come, Terry keeping close at his heels.
In the very narrowest and darkest part of the street they almost fell over a group of three men, one being prostrate on the ground, while the other two bent over him, evidently engaged in rifling his pockets.
Shouting "Take that, you rascal!" the brawny captain struck one of the highwaymen a sounding whack across the shoulders with his stick, and the next instant tumbled the other over with his left fist. The astounded scoundrels as soon as they recovered themselves made off at full speed; and when assured of their departure, Captain Afleck turned his attention to the victim of their violence.
It was too dark at that spot to make out the extent of his injuries, so, with Terry's aid, he was dragged towards a lamp-post.
They had just placed him upon some steps, and were endeavouring to loosen his neckcloth, for he was quite insensible, when there suddenly appeared two big policemen, who made haste to arrest them with great show of zeal.
Neither protests nor explanations were of any avail. A respectable citizen returning quietly home had been brutally assaulted in the public street. The captain and Terry had been caught red-handed (as a matter of fact they did both have blood upon their hands, got from the wound on the poor man's head, which was badly cut), and they must answer for it at the police court in the morning.
Other policemen were whistled for, and the still insensible man was sent to hospital in a cab, while his two unlucky rescuers were marched off to the station-house, where they spent a miserable night in separate cells.
Not only that night but the whole of the next day were they kept in confinement, the injuries of the "respectable citizen" being too severe to permit of his appearing in court; and it was not until the following day that they were brought up for examination.
Terry went before the police magistrate with quaking knees and beating heart. Not that any sense of guilt filled him with fear, but because his whole past experience in Halifax had been such as to make the minions of the law objects of terror to him; and now that he was in their clutches in a foreign land, his lively imagination conceived all sorts of dire consequences in spite of his big companion's attempts at comfort.
Captain Afleck, on the other hand, was in a state of furious indignation. The moment he got a chance to open his mouth he intended to give the American authorities a piece of his mind, and threaten them with the vengeance of the British nation for committing so unwarrantable an indignity upon one of its honest and loyal members.
A number of cases had precedence of theirs, and they watched the proceedings with very different feelings—Terry wondering, as he heard sentence after sentence pronounced by the magistrate in his hard, dry, monotonous voice, what penalty would be theirs if he and the captain could not clear themselves; while the captain, nursing his wrath to keep it warm, gave vent to a succession of wrathful grunts as he saw the succession of miserable, unwashed, demoralized creatures with whom he was for the time associated.
At length the rest of the docket had been cleared, and their case was called. It had been left to the last because of its being the most serious on the list for the day. Just as the captain and Terry were being arraigned, there appeared in court a middle-aged man, whose carefully-bandaged head, pale countenance, and general air of weakness betokened him to be the victim of the assault.
As the two prisoners stood up to answer to their names and the charge made against them by Policeman No. 399, it was evident that their appearance created a good deal of surprise. They certainly did not look at all like the ordinary criminals. The case promised to be one of special interest, and the spectators adjusted themselves so as to see and hear to the best advantage.
But if they expected an interesting hour of it they were doomed to be disappointed; for no sooner had the injured man raised his eyes to look at the accused of having waylaid him than he gave a start, and the colour mounted to his pallid face.
"These are not the men," he exclaimed. "There's some mistake. The men that assaulted me were short and stout, and they were both men—not a man and a boy."
His words created a decided sensation. The countenance of the zealous bluecoats who had effected the arrest, and expected praise for their efficient performance, grew suddenly long while the magistrate turned upon them a look of stern inquiry, saying,—
"What's the meaning of this? Have you been making some serious blunder?"
Captain Afleck now had his opportunity, and he used it gloriously, pouring forth the vials of his wrath as he told his story, until at last the magistrate, entirely satisfied, stopped the stream of his eloquence with uplifted hand, and proceeded to say, in a tone that showed genuine feeling,—
"You have been the victims of a very unfortunate blunder, for which I wish it were in my power to make some reparation. As it is, all I can do is to express my profound regret, and to put you at once at liberty."
Amid a buzz of applause the captain and Terry made their way out into the street, the boy hardly able to restrain his impulse to leap and shout for joy, but the man still grumbling and growling at the aggravation he had been so undeservedly compelled to endure.
Once more in the open air, Terry's first thought was to get away as fast as possible.
"Let us be off to the station," he cried. "Mebbe there's a train goin' soon."
This made the captain think of the railway passes, and he thrust his hand into the pocket where he kept his wallet. The pocket was empty! He tried the other pockets, but they were in the same condition! The passes and the remainder of his money were gone, stolen by some clever pickpocket that very morning perchance. He turned upon Terry a face full of consternation.
"I've been robbed, Terry," said he hoarsely. "We can't go to Boston to-day; I've lost the passes, and all my money too."
Terry's face when he heard Captain Afleck's startling news was verily a study. The joy which the moment before had irradiated it vanished like a flash, and in its place came a look of blank despair that would have touched a heart of stone.
"Whirra, whirra!" he moaned, shaking his head dolefully; "and what's to be done now? We can't walk all that way, can we?"
In spite of his mental distress the big seaman burst out into a laugh.
"Walk all the way, Terry!" he cried; "not a bit of us. If I can't manage better than that, you can put me down for a first-class booby."
At this moment a hand was laid gently on his shoulder, and turning round he found at his side the gentleman who had been unintentionally the cause of their mishap.
"Pardon my addressing you," said he courteously, "but I am really very much grieved that you should have been put to so much inconvenience on my account. Won't you do me the favour to come home with me to lunch? My carriage is waiting for me."
For a moment Captain Afleck hesitated. Then, seeing that the invitation was sincere, and feeling glad to find a friend in his time of need, he looked at Terry, saying, "Shall we go with the gentleman, Terry?"
Terry nodded a vigorous assent. So the invitation was accepted, and presently they were rolling up Fifth Avenue in a luxurious carriage, wondering what good fortune awaited them.
The carriage stopped at a handsome residence, into which they followed their host, and being shown by a servant into a dressing-room, were enabled to make their toilet before going to lunch.
Mr. Travers had no family, and they were therefore spared the ordeal of facing female society, while his genial manner soon put them both so entirely at their ease, that almost unconsciously they told him their whole story, since the collision in Boston Harbour. Nor did their confidence stop there; for Terry, his heart responding to the old man's kindly interest, was moved to go further back, and tell his own history, from the time he saved Miss Drummond's life.
"Oh, ho!" exclaimed Mr. Travers when he had finished—"Mr. Drummond, of Drummond and Brown. I know him well. We've had business relations these many years. Now, Terry, my lad, I want to say that I believe you fully, and that this very night I will take upon myself to write to Mr. Drummond and say so; and when you go back to Halifax you'll find him ready to receive your explanations, and to take you back into his office."
How Terry's heart leaped at this, and with what boyish ardour he expressed his gratitude! Halifax seemed very near now, and it was brought still nearer when Mr. Travers proceeded:—
"As to your getting home, of course you will allow me to provide for that—nothing else would be fair, and it will perhaps in some measure make amends for what you have had to endure."
So the upshot of it was, that when the captain and Terry bade good-bye to their new-found friend, the former had sufficient funds to pay all expenses of the homeward journey, and with light hearts they made their way to the station.
Once more in the train, and speeding towards Boston, they lolled about on the cushion of the car in great good-humour.
"Well, Terry, my son," said the captain, bestowing upon him a look of mingled affection and admiration, "you do have the greatest luck of any fellow I ever saw. I give you credit for the whole of it, seein' that I've never had much of it myself. No matter what sort of a scrape we get into, out we come again smiling, and not a bit the worse. If your luck holds, you'll be a great man some day, Terry, and no mistake."
Terry laughed, and curled up still more comfortably on the crimson cushion.
"Faith, you make me proud, captain," he responded. "But where do you come in yourself? Sure, it 'ud be no easy job to say where I'd be this very minute if you'd not looked after me."
Much pleased in his turn, Captain Afleck leaned over and twitched Terry's ear in a not ungentle fashion.
"I guess you can take pretty good care of yourself, my hearty," said he. "Some fine day you'll be one of the bosses at Long Wharf, wearing a big gold chain, and fine black suit, and a tall shiny hat, while, if I'm alive, I'll be nothing better than I am now, glad if I can knock out a living with my schooner—if I ever get another one."
"No you won't, captain," cried Terry, springing up with eyes shining with emotion; "nothing of the kind. If ever I do get to be one of the bosses, you shall be captain of the best ship the firm owns, and go round the world in her, if you like."
Captain Afleck gave the boy a tender smile as he took hold of his hand.
"I know you mean every word of it, Terry; and, who knows, perhaps some of it may come true some day."
And so they whiled away the time as the swift train sped northward. Shortly after nightfall Terry went to sleep, and the captain, growing weary of the confinement of the car, took advantage of a lengthy stoppage at a junction to get out and stretch his legs. There were trains on both sides of the platform, and it fell out that the mariner, little used to land travel, presently lost his bearings, with the result that, hearing the shout, "All aboard," and seeing a train move off, he jumped on to the rear car, thinking it was all right.
Not until he had passed through to the next car did he discover that he was mistaken. But by that time the train had gathered such speed that to jump off was to risk life, so with a groan of, "Oh, but I'm the dunderhead. How is poor Terry to get along now?" he threw himself into a seat to wait for the conductor, from whom he might learn how soon he could leave this train and set off in pursuit of the right one.
When the conductor did appear the captain was dismayed to find that he was flying off due west in the direction of Chicago, instead of due north in the direction of Boston, and that it would not be possible for him to retrace his way until the following morning, while the train which carried Terry would reach Boston that very night.
"Well, it's no use crying over spilt milk," soliloquized Captain Afleck on receiving this information. "I must only make the best of it for myself; but poor little Terry, who's to look after him? and he hasn't a copper in his pocket."
It was some little time after the train had moved off without the captain before Terry awoke. When he did, and looked about him for his companion, his first thought was,—
"Oh, he's gone into one of the other cars," and he gave himself no concern.
Presently, however, beginning to feel lonely, he thought he'd go in search of him, and accordingly he went through the four passenger cars, looking eagerly for the stalwart sailor.
Discovering no signs of him, he grew anxious, and questioned the brakesman. But he could tell him nothing; and all the conductor knew was that a man answering to Terry's description had been out on the platform at the junction walking up and down while the train stopped.
"Do you think he's fallen under the cars, and been killed?" exclaimed Terry, his eyes enlarged to their utmost extent at the awful notion.
"Not much," responded the conductor curtly. "Guess he went to get a drink in the restaurant, and let the train go off without him. You needn't worry. He'll be along by the express."
This explanation, albeit not altogether satisfactory to Terry, for he knew the captain was practically a teetotaller, nevertheless served, in lieu of a better one, to allay his apprehensions somewhat; and, having inquired when the express would be along, he went back to his seat, determined not to let the other passengers see how deep was his distress.
For, in spite of the conductor's suggestion, he could not dismiss from his mind the idea of some harm having befallen his kind friend, and he worried far more over this than he did over the fact of his being without money to pay his way when he did arrive in Boston.
It was within two hours of midnight when the train rolled into the station, and Terry, tumbling out on the platform, looked about him with blinking eyes of bewilderment.
"Faith, it's a lost dog I am now, and no mistake," he said, gazing around at the confusing crowds of people, the hurrying officials, the shouting hack-drivers, and all the other elements of confusion at a great railroad terminus. "I'd like mighty well to know what to do now, seein' I've never a copper in my pocket, and don't know a blessed soul in the place."
In the hope of finding Captain Afleck, he waited until the express train came in of which the conductor had spoken. But there was no sign of the strayed sailor; and realizing that there was nothing to be gained by hanging about the station, Terry went out into the streets, a waif in a fuller sense than ever before in his life.
Yet his brave bright spirit refused to be overwhelmed. The night was fine and warm; the streets were bright, and lined with fine buildings. If the policemen would only let him alone, he would make a shift to get through the night somehow, and trust to obtaining help from some quarter in the morning.
So he strolled along through street after street, entertaining himself with comments upon the people and buildings he passed, and keeping a sharp eye open for any place that might promise a quiet haven for the night.
In this way he came to a cross-street between two important thoroughfares, and turning into it, he knew not why, he was brought to an open door, whence issued sounds of singing.
He loved music of every kind, and this singing was so sweet and fervent that it drew him little by little further inside the door, until, almost before he knew it, he found himself in a bright attractive hall, set with chairs, and nearly filled by a gathering of men and women, singing heartily a gospel song, the like of; which he had never heard before.
There was something so genial in the atmosphere of the place that the homeless boy resolved to stay if he would be permitted, and so taking a seat in the nearest corner he gave himself up to the enjoyment of the music.
Soon a young man espied him and came towards him. Was he going to turn him out? Poor Terry's heart sank, and he felt his face becoming crimson. But his fears were all unfounded. Instead of asking him to leave, the young man held out his hand, saying with a cordial smile,—
"You're very welcome, my boy. Come up nearer; and here's a hymn-book to sing from."
Terry would have preferred his corner, but he felt it would be ungracious to refuse so kind an invitation, and he therefore followed obediently till he was assigned a seat not far from the desk, at which stood a venerable man with long white beard, whose countenance seemed to radiate tenderness and sympathy.
When the singing ended, the leader began to speak. His theme was the love of Christ for sinners, and he spoke with rare simplicity and winning force. Terry listened with every faculty attent. It was all strangely new to him. What little religious instruction he had got in the Roman Catholic Church was in no way a preparation for this earnest, direct, personal gospel, which not only took a strong hold upon his heart, but seemed to arouse some sort of response there, as though it were awakening faculties which had been hitherto dormant.
The speaker evidently observed the boy's rapt attention, for he turned upon him many a look of loving appeal, that made Terry feel as though he were looking right down into his heart and reading all that was there.
Yet, strange to say, Terry had no disposition to resent this. So spell-bound was he that he could hardly have resisted any command the old man might have laid upon him; and when, at the close of his address, the leader invited all who wished to learn more about the Saviour to remain for a little while after the meeting had been dismissed, Terry was among those who stayed in their seats.
Not only so, but when this after-meeting came to an end Terry still lingered, partly because he was loath to go out again into the strange streets, which offered him no refuge for the night, and partly because he wanted to hear something more about this Jesus, who seemed so different from the only Son of Mary of whom he had any knowledge.
The venerable leader, the moment he was disengaged, went up to Terry, and laying his hand kindly on his head, said in a tone of great tenderness,—
"Well, my dear boy, I am very glad to see you here; and do you love Jesus too?"
The full purport of this question Terry hardly grasped, and not knowing what answer to make he hung his head in silence, whereupon the leader added gently,—
"Never mind answering that question just now. Come with me. I'm going home, and you can tell me all your story there."
Completely won by the gracious charm of his manner, Terry lifted his head, and looking up gratefully into the noble countenance bending over him, said,—
"Indeed, sir, I'm glad you've asked me, for it's without a place to sleep in I am this night."
"You shall be all right with me, then," was the cordial response. "Let us go now, and you can tell me about yourself as we walk along."
Passing on through the now deserted streets, Terry told his new-found friend much of the story of his life, his narration being listened to with deep sympathy and interest. As they stopped at the door of a comfortable-looking house the old gentleman said,—
"Providence has put you in my way, my boy, and it will be my joy to assist you to the best of my ability. Here is my home. You shall share it until the way opens for you to continue your journey."
A beautiful old lady gave them both a warm welcome and a bountiful supper, to which Terry did full justice, for he had been fasting since mid-day.
Then his host told him something of the place where they had met. It was a midnight mission carried on by himself, at his own expense, for the benefit of fallen humanity. This was his life-work, and he rejoiced in it, because of the many opportunities it afforded him of being both a temporal and a spiritual helper to the victims of vice or of misfortune. Terry felt irresistibly drawn towards Mr. Sargent and his wife, whose hearts so overflowed with love; and when they proposed that he should stay with them for a few days, in order that he might try to find Captain Afleck, he gladly assented.
Thus it came about that he was with these kind good people for the remainder of the week, looking about the streets and wharves for the captain in the day-time, attending the mission meetings at night, and all the time being more and more deeply influenced by the beautiful piety of his friends.
Recognizing how much Terry had to learn of the very essentials of religion, Mr. Sargent took abundant pains to make the matter clear to the Irish boy, whose warm heart readily responded to the argument from the infinite love of the Father, and he had his reward in finding his pupil laying hold upon the truth with a grasp that would not be readily shaken.
Each day the attachment between them deepened, until Mr. Sargent began to wish that he might keep Terry altogether; he discovered in him such possibilities of good.
But, sincerely grateful as he was, Terry's anxiety to get back to Halifax grew keener every day. He seemed so near now, and there were vessels sailing every day, on one of which he could without difficulty obtain a passage.
Of Captain Afleck no trace could be found. As a matter of fact, he, too, on reaching Boston had spent some time hunting for Terry; but being unsuccessful, concluded that Terry had gone on to Halifax, and accordingly gave up the search until he should hear from that place.
It had just been arranged that Terry should take the train for Halifax one afternoon, when, in the morning, walking along Tremont Street, he caught sight of a familiar face over the way, and darting across the street he cried delightedly,—
"Mr. Hobart! is it yourself?"