THE CONFEDERATE STEAMER SCOTIAN
One bell sounded on the gong in the engine room, and the Bronx began to
go ahead. Christy felt that the most tremendous hour of his lifetime had
come, and he struggled to keep down the excitement which agitated him;
and he succeeded so far that he appeared to be the coolest man on board
of the ship. When Flint came in the vicinity of the bridge, he called to
him to join him. The men were procuring their revolvers and cutlasses,
and he had a moment to spare. The captain instructed him to conceal the
boarders so that they could not be seen on board the steamer in the fog
when the Bronx came up with her. He added some other details to his
orders.
"If possible, I wish you to keep as near Lillyworth as you can,"
continued Christy, "for I shall not have the opportunity to watch him.
This war cannot be conducted on peace principles, and if that man
attempts to defeat my orders in any manner, don't hesitate to put a ball
from your revolver through his heart. Use reasonable care, Mr. Flint,
but bear in mind that I am not to be defeated in the capture of that
steamer, if she proves to be what I suppose she is, by the treachery of
one who accepted a position as an officer on board of the Bronx." The
commander was firm and decided in his manner, and Flint had served with
him enough to know that he meant what he said.
"I will obey your orders to the letter, Captain Passford, using all
reasonable precautions in the discharge of my duty," replied Flint.
"Mr. Lillyworth was in a state of mutiny just now, and spoke to me."
"What did he say?"
"He declared that he was second lieutenant of the ship, and it was his
right to command the first division of boarders. He wouldn't stand it.
I told him he was to be in command of the guns. He insisted that you did
not intend to fire a gun if you could help it. I replied that we should
not board the vessel either if we could help it. But I had no time to
argue with him, and referred him to the captain. Then he moved towards
the ladder of the bridge, and I forbade him to leave his station. That
is the whole of it. I have seen him speak to each of the six men we now
know to be his friends, to say nothing of Mulgrum. I left him then."
"All right so far, Mr. Flint. Return to the deck, if you please, and be
sure that the boarders are kept out of sight from this moment," added
Christy. "Quartermaster, ring four bells," he added, turning to the
pilot house.
"Four bells, sir," repeated McSpindle, who was at the wheel.
The Bronx soon began to feel the effect of this order, and the smoke
poured out in increased volume from the smokestack, affected by the
stronger draught produced by the additional speed.
"On the topsail yard!" called the captain, directing his speaking
trumpet aloft.
"On the bridge, sir!" replied the man.
"Can you make out the steamer?"
"No, sir; only her topmasts and fore rigging."
"How does she lie from the Bronx?"
"Still on the starboard bow, sir."
"Port the helm, quartermaster," added the captain.
"Port, sir," replied McSpindle.
For about five minutes more, the Bronx went ahead at full speed, and
Christy was confident that she was again making fifteen knots.
"On the bridge, sir!" called the man on the fore yard.
"Aloft!"
"I make her out now; she has the Confederate flag at the peak."
"All right!" exclaimed Christy to himself, though he spoke out loud.
The steamer had set her colors, and there was no longer any doubt in
regard to her character. The flag also indicated that she was not a
blockade runner in the ordinary sense of the word, but a Confederate
man-of-war. Warnock reported that she had taken her armament on board
from another vessel at some point south of England, and the colors also
assured Christy that the steamer was one of the pair expected.
Still the Bronx went ahead at full speed, and presently a gun was heard
from the direction in which she lay, though the captain was unable to
decide what it meant. It might be a signal of distress, but the man on
the yard had not reported the colors as union down; and it might be
simply a defiance. It was probable that the Scotian and Arran had put
in at St. George, and it was more than possible that they had shipped
a reinforcement to her reported small crew.
"Aloft!" called the captain again.
"On the bridge, sir!" replied the lookout.
"Is the steamer under way?"
"I think not, sir; but I can't make out her wake, it is so low."
"Starboard a little, quartermaster."
"Starboard, sir."
Christy heard, or thought he heard, for he was not sure about it, the
sound of a bell. A minute later the quartermaster in the pilot house
struck seven bells, which was repeated on the top-gallant forecastle of
the Bronx, and he was confident this was what he had heard on board of
the stranger.
"Quartermaster, strike one bell," he added.
"One bell, sir;" and the gong resounded from the engine room, and the
speed of the Bronx was immediately reduced.
A minute later Christy obtained a full view of the steamer. She was
headed to the southwest, and her propeller was not in motion. As the
lookout had reported, she was the counterpart of the Bronx, though she
was a larger vessel. He gave some further orders to the quartermaster at
the wheel, for he had decided to board the steamer on her port side. The
boarders had been concealed in proper places under this arrangement, and
the captain had directed the course of the Bronx so that a shot from her
could hardly do any harm, if she took it into her head to fire one.
"Arran, ahoy!" shouted a hoarse voice through a speaking trumpet from
the steamer.
"On board the Scotian!" replied Christy through his trumpet.
After the vessel had hailed the Arran, the captain had no difficulty
in deciding that the other craft was the Scotian; and he was especially
glad that the officer of that vessel had hailed him in this particular
form. The single word spoken through that trumpet was the key to the
entire enigma. Every possible doubt was removed by it. He was now
assured, as he had not been before, that he had fallen in with one of
the two vessels of which his father had given him information, and which
his sealed orders required him to seek, even if he was detained a week
or more. Christy spent no time in congratulating himself on the
situation, but the tremendous idea passed through his whole being
in an instant.
"We are disabled!" shouted the officer on board of the Scotian through
his trumpet. "Please send your engineer on board."
"All right!" replied Christy. "Go ahead a little faster, Mr. Sampson.
We are very near the steamer."
The young commander cast his eyes over the deck of his vessel to assure
himself that everything was ready for the important moment, though the
situation did not indicate that a very sharp battle was to be fought.
Everything was in order, and the first lieutenant was planking the deck,
looking as though he felt quite at home, for he was as cool as a Jersey
cucumber. Farther aft was Lillyworth, as uneasy as a caged tiger, for
no doubt he realized that the Scotian was to fall a victim to the
circumstances that beset her, rather than as the result of a spirited
chase or a sharply fought battle. He looked about him for a moment, and
the instant he turned his head, Mulgrum came out from behind the mast,
and passed quite near him.
The captain could not tell whether the second lieutenant had spoken to
the deaf mute or not, but the latter hastened to the engine hatch, and
descended to the engine room. The Bronx was within less than a cable's
length of the Scotian, whose name could now be read on her stern, when
Mulgrum, apparently ordered by Lillyworth to do so, had hastened to the
engine hatch. Even on the bridge the noise of a scuffle could be heard
in the engine room, and the captain was sure that Sampson had been
obedient to his orders. Another minute or two would determine in what
manner the Scotian was to be captured, and Christy hastened down the
ladder to the deck.
As soon as his foot pressed the planks, he hastened to the engine hatch.
Calling to the engineer, he learned that the deaf mute had been knocked
senseless by Sampson, and lay on the sofa. He waited to hear no more,
but went forward where there were bell pulls on the deck, and rang two
bells to stop her. Then he gave some orders to the quartermaster, and
rang three bells to back her. The Bronx came alongside of the Scotian
as handsomely as though she had been a river steamer making one of
her usual landings. The hands who had been stationed for the purpose
immediately used their grappling irons, and the two vessels were fast
to each other.
"Boarders!--" the first lieutenant shouted at a sign from the captain;
but before he could complete the order, Pawcett, for we may now call him
by his right name, leaped on the bulwarks of the Bronx.
"This is a United States"--he began to say, but he was allowed to
proceed no farther, for the first lieutenant raised the revolver he
carried in his left hand, doubtless for this very purpose, and fired.
Pawcett did not utter another word, but fell back upon the deck of the
Bronx; where no one took any further notice of him.
"Boarders, away!" shouted the first lieutenant.
This time the sentence was finished, and the order was promptly
executed. Hardly a half minute had been lost by the attempt of Pawcett
to prepare the officers of the Scotian to do their duty; but he had said
enough to enable the ship's company to understand what he would have
said if he had finished his announcement. The officers and seamen were
both surprised, and there was a panic among the latter, though the
former rallied them in a moment. But they had lost all their chances,
and after an insignificant struggle, the deck of the steamer was in
possession of the boarders. The crew were driven forward by the
victorious "Bronxies" as Giblock called them. "Do you surrender?"
said Mr. Baskirk to the officer he took for the captain.
"I do not see that I have any other alternative," replied the commander
of the Scotian, politely enough, but it was evident that he was sorely
afflicted, and even ashamed of himself. "I understand now that I am the
victim of a Yankee trick."
"Allow me to introduce you to Captain Passford, commander of the United
States steamer Bronx," continued Mr. Baskirk, as Christy came on board
of the prize.
The captain of the Scotian retreated a pace as Christy stepped up
in front of him, and gracefully lifted his cap to the unfortunate
commander.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but did I understand you to say that this young
gentleman is the commander of the steamer alongside?" demanded the
captain, looking at Christy from head to foot.
"He is the commander, sir; Captain Passford," added Baskirk.
"May I be allowed to ask whom I have the honor to address?" Christy
began, lifting his cap again, as did the other also.
"Captain Dinsmore, at your service."
"I sincerely regret your personal misfortune while I rejoice at the
result of this action, as a loyal citizen of the United States," replied
Christy.
Then he invited the captain to his cabin.