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Transcriber's note:
"Ensign Clark Fitch" is a pseudonym used by Upton Sinclair.
A PRISONER OF MORRO
Or
In the Hands of the Enemy
by
ENSIGN CLARK FITCH, U. S. N.
Author of "Bound for Annapolis," "Cliff, the Naval
Cadet," "The Fighting Squadron," etc.
[Illustration: A Prisoner of Morro by Ensign Clark Fitch, U. S. N.]
Street & Smith, Publishers
79-89 Seventh Ave., New York City
Copyright, 1898
By Street & Smith
A Prisoner of Morro
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. SIGHTING A PRIZE. 5
II. A LONG CHASE. 10
III. AN OLD ENEMY. 19
IV. IN COMMAND OF THE PRIZE. 28
V. A HAIL FROM THE DARKNESS. 32
VI. REPELLING BOARDERS. 39
VII. A DESPERATE CHASE. 46
VIII. A DASH FOR THE SHORE. 51
IX. THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY. 56
X. A STARTLING DISCOVERY. 63
XI. A RUNNING FIGHT. 67
XII. THE FIRST PRISONERS OF WAR. 72
XIII. IGNACIO'S PLOTS. 78
XIV. BESSIE STUART. 85
XV. IN MORRO CASTLE. 94
XVI. IN THE DUNGEON VAULTS. 99
XVII. OUT OF THE DUNGEON. 104
XVIII. CLIF FARADAY'S SACRIFICE. 112
XIX. A FAREWELL. 120
XX. AN UNEXPECTED PERIL. 127
XXI. RECAPTURED BY THE ENEMY. 133
XXII. CUTTING A CABLE. 139
XXIII. A PERILOUS DETAIL. 146
XXIV. THE CUBAN COURIER. 152
XXV. "IN THE NAME OF HUMANITY AND THE SAILORS OF THE MAINE!" 158
XXVI. A GAME OF BLUFF. 164
XXVII. IN WHICH CLIF MEETS WITH A SURPRISE. 170
XXVIII. A STRUGGLE AGAINST ODDS. 176
XXIX. CLIF'S SECOND EXPEDITION. 182
XXX. THE BATTLE IN THE BRUSH. 187
XXXI. CAPTURED. 194
XXXII. CLIF FARADAY'S TEST. 201
XXXIII. THE MYSTERY OF THE UNEXPLODED SHELL. 208
A PRISONER OF MORRO
CHAPTER I.
SIGHTING A PRIZE.
About noon of a day in May during the recent year the converted tug
Uncas left Key West to join the blockading squadron off the northern
coast of Cuba.
Her commander was Lieutenant Raymond, and her junior officer Naval Cadet
Clifford Faraday. The regular junior officer was absent on sick leave,
and Cadet Faraday had been assigned to his place in recognition of
gallant conduct.
The ropes were cast off, and slowly the tug glided away from the dock
and out toward the open sea.
It was not very long before the harbor of Key West was left behind, and
then began the long trip to Havana. It was over a hundred miles, and
that meant seven or eight hours' journey for the Uncas.
But the Uncas was a good, stout vessel, unusually swift for a tug, and
she made the water fairly fly when once she got clear of the land.
Clif leaned against one of the rapid-firing guns in the bow and gazed
longingly ahead; he was anxious to reach his destination.
There were wild rumors concerning Spanish fleets, Cadiz squadrons and
Cape Verde squadrons and Mediterranean squadrons, which were continually
being sighted or heard of nearby; and for all Clif knew the decisive
battle of the war might be fought at any time.
And he felt that if it took place while he was absent he would never
cease to regret it as long as he lived. The Uncas could not do much in
such a battle; but she was anxious to do her share.
It was possible, also, that Morro might succeed in provoking an attack.
The guns of the Havana defenses kept blazing away at anything that came
near, and the American sailors were fairly boiling over with impatience
to get a whack at them.
And at any time Admiral Sampson might give the word.
So Clif was restless and impatient as he stood in the bow of the swift
tug and gazed southward.
It was a rather damp place of observation the cadet had chosen, for it
had been blowing quite a gale that day, and the Uncas was plowing her
way through a heavy sea.
The spray was flying over the decks; but who would have thought of going
below at such a time as that?
It was not Clif's turn on duty. Lieutenant Raymond seemed to think that
after his struggle on board the Spanish monitor the young cadet deserved
a rest. But he was too eager and wide awake just then to wish to take
it.
When the tug was well under way the lieutenant came out of the pilot
house and joined Clif again.
"Thinking of the weather, Mr. Faraday?" inquired Lieutenant Raymond.
"No, sir," replied the cadet, "I was thinking of Ignacio. I don't know
how he happened to get into my thoughts, but he did."
"Who is Ignacio?"
"He's a Spaniard I've had some trouble with," answered Clif. "You may
have heard about one of his exploits."
"Which one is that?"
"He made an attempt to assassinate Rear Admiral Sampson."
"Oh, yes, I heard about that," said the officer. "The admiral told me
about it himself. I believe you were the person who interfered."
"I had the good luck to be standing near," said Clif, modestly. "And of
course, I sprang between them."
"And the spy stabbed you?"
"Yes. In the shoulder, but he did not hurt me very much."
"He must be a desperate man."
"He is. That stabbing business seems to be a favorite trick of his. I
hope I shan't have to face him again."
Whether Ignacio was a Spaniard or a traitor Cuban, no one could say.
Clif had first met him trying to lead astray an American officer who had
been sent with dispatches for Gomez.
And Clif had foiled the plot, and had been Ignacio's deadly enemy ever
since. Clif had been keeping a careful watch for him. He knew that the
vindictive fellow would follow his every move; Ignacio was acting as a
spy for the Spaniards, and so must have found it easy to keep track of
the cadet's whereabouts. But so far Clif had not met him.
"We are likely to have a wild night of it," said Lieutenant Raymond.
"The clouds seem to get darker every minute."
"It'll be a night for the blockade-runners," was Clif's answer. "We may
have some excitement."
"We'll have it anyway," said the other. "I don't know of anything I less
rather do than weather a storm while in among the vessels of the fleet.
It will be necessary to stay on deck every instant of the time keeping
watch for our very lives."
"I know how it is," the cadet added. "I was on the Porter dining one
such night. And we captured a prize coming out of Havana after almost
running her down in the darkness."
"I heard about it," said Lieutenant Raymond. "You may repeat the
performance to-night if you have a chance. We aren't likely to meet with
anything till we get there."
As the lieutenant said that he turned and gazed ahead; the broad sea
stretched out on every side of them, without a sign of smoke or sail to
vary the monotony of its tossing waves.
"But it always lends zest to a trip like this," the officer added, "to
know that it's possible you may run across a stray Spaniard at any
moment. It pays to keep one's eyes open."
"And then you have the pleasure of chasing two or three and finding
they're some other nation's ships," said Clif, with a laugh.
"That's about all we've done so far," said the lieutenant. "But we're
still hoping perhaps you'll bring us good luck."
"I'll do my best," the cadet declared with a smile.
"Better get ready for it by resting a bit. Your dinner's ready below."
Clif took the hint and went below. The boat was pitching so violently
that he found eating a very difficult operation, and it was generally so
unpleasant in the little cabin that he was glad to go on deck again.
And then later in the afternoon, at four o'clock, it came time for him
to go on duty. After that he had to remain outside whether he wanted to
or not.
The gale grew considerably stronger, and as the darkness came on it got
much chillier, but Clif still paced up and down the deck with the glass
in his hand watching for a sign of a passing vessel, or of the
approaching Cuban coast.
He was left almost alone on deck as the weather got rougher; for the
crew made themselves comfortable below, knowing what hard work lay
before them through the stormy night.
It was not the custom on the vessel to keep the whole watch on duty
except at night; and Clif had only the two sailors at the wheel and the
lookout in the bow for company.
But if he felt any jealousy of those who were below out of the cold, he
had the grim satisfaction of being able to disturb their comfort before
very long.
It was about half past four in the afternoon, and suddenly the lookout
turned and called to Clif.
The eager cadet knew what it meant. He seized the glass and hurried
forward.
He followed the direction of the man's finger.
"I think I see smoke, sir," was what the sailor said.
And Clif took a long look and then turned, his face betraying his
excitement.
An instant later his voice rang through the ship.
"Steamer ahoy--off the starboard bow!"