CAPTURED.
Clif had elected to imperil his own existence rather than allow one of
the enemy's boats to pass that blockade without warning to the American
ships. But he had no intention of lying idly by in the path of the
hostile craft.
He waited but a moment after the glare of the last rocket had died out
in the air, and then bent to the oars, and urged the boat toward the
open sea beyond.
And then he had every confidence that he had little to fear from the
enemy's boat.
"They'll have all they can do to look out for their own safety now," he
thought, "without paying any attention to me. The New York has seen the
signal, and will not be slow in making out the cause. Then look out, Mr.
Spaniard."
But there was more taking place upon those waters than Clif was
cognizant of, and peril came from an unlooked-for source.
His decision to send up the warning signal had been quickly formed after
his first discovery of the strange vessel. He had seen at a glance that
it was not a warship, but a merchant steamer. It was moving slowly, and
apparently seeking, as much as possible, the concealment afforded by the
shadow of the coast. Every feature about it showed that it was trying
to quietly steal out past the blockading vessels.
Clif had not delayed, but on the impulse of the moment had sent up the
signal rockets while he was yet between the ship and the shore. But a
few steady strokes would carry him beyond the enemy and toward the
flagship, he thought.
But to his surprise he noticed, on glancing over his shoulder as he drew
nearer the vessel, that the latter was moving slower than before and in
fact had just stopped.
This was puzzling to him, for now, if at any time, the boat should be
showing its utmost speed. Those on board must surely know from the
signals that they had been discovered and that pursuit would instantly
follow.
A few words will explain the situation to the reader. The vessel was, as
Clif suspected, endeavoring to steal out past the American ships, which
were known to be in the vicinity. But a short time before Clif had left
the shore for the second time, the blockade runner had slowed down, and
a boat, manned by half a dozen sailors, had been sent ashore. An officer
in the Spanish army, with important dispatches, was to be taken aboard
at a point not far from where Clif had landed.
The work of the Spanish boat's crew had been expeditiously performed,
and when Clif sent up his signal, they were returning to the ship.
Unnoticed by Clif in his excitement at the time, they were close to one
side of his boat at that fateful moment.
A pistol shot suddenly ringing out in the air and a bullet flying not
far from his head apprised the cadet of danger from that quarter. The
Spaniards, as was natural for them to be, were aroused to a high pitch
of excitement against the youth whose vigilance promised to set all
their plans at naught.
With a hoarse yell of rage they tugged at the oars and their boat fairly
leaped through the water after the intrepid young cadet.
Clif saw the movement, and redoubled his efforts at the oars. It was a
race for his life--one against seven!
With frantic energy he tugged at the oars, and his boat shot forward
with encouraging speed. At that moment the searchlight on the flagship
sent its rays across the waters in answer to the signal, and a dazzling
stream of light played upon the scene.
It brought in clear relief the form of the waiting steamer, and the two
boats racing so desperately near at hand.
What a thrilling scene it must have been to the officers on the bridge
of the flagship as with glass in hand they watched the exciting race.
But it was not given to them long to note the cadet's desperate struggle
for freedom, or to marvel at his great endurance.
The race was a short one, and the result a foregone conclusion. There
was no hope of Clif's escaping from the pursuing boat, with its crew of
fresh and eager oarsmen. The latter closed in upon him with a leap and a
bound, and soon were within oar's length of him.
He recognized the uselessness of trying to escape from them, but was
determined not to surrender without a struggle even in the face of great
numbers.
He dropped his oars and sprang to his feet, facing his enemies. He drew
his revolver, but before he could use it one of the Spanish sailors, who
had risen in the boat, knocked it from his grasp with his oar.
The boats were now side by side, almost touching, and the dark hulk of
the steamer was not many feet away.
From the latter arose aloud cheer as they saw that Clif had been
disarmed, and above the noise Clif could hear a few words of command
from the Spanish army officer who sat in the stern of the boat at his
side. It was to the sailor who had sprung up to attack Clif.
"Don't shoot!" he said. "Take him alive!"
Clif had seized an oar when his revolver fell with a splash into the
water, and there was no doubt that he intended using it.
But two can play at that game, and the Spanish sailor, forbidden to
shoot, attacked Clif furiously with the oar, which he still held in his
hand.
Clif dodged, but as he did so another sailor aimed a blow at his head.
The aim was good.
A sharp pain shot through the young cadet's head, he reeled and all
became dark before him. With a faint moan he fell senseless into the
bottom of his boat.
The contest had been short, and well it was for the Spaniards that such
was the case. Already the flickering of the searchlight told that the
flagship was hurrying to the scene.
The Spaniards realized the importance of quick action. They had, on the
impulse of the moment, retaliated upon Clif because it could take but a
few minutes and because they felt that the chase would end not far from
their waiting vessel.
They congratulated themselves that it had, indeed, brought them almost
to the ship's side, and now they lost no time in getting themselves and
their prisoner aboard. Willing hands assisted from above.
A couple of strokes of the oars had brought them to the ship's side,
with Clif's boat in tow. In obedience to a command, Clif's boat with its
unconscious burden was raised bodily to the deck. The captain thought he
could use it in his business.
A moment later the Spaniards with the army officer reached the deck, and
the ship's captain signaled to go ahead.
All now was excitement on board the Spaniard. Beyond securely fastening
the arms and legs of their unconscious captive where he lay, they paid
but little attention to Clif. They were all too wrapped up in thoughts
of escape from the cruiser whose piercing searchlight was streaming upon
them.
Among the crew there was, here and there, a murmur against the delay
that had been caused by stopping to take on the army officer, and with
this was coupled a note of resentment against the young cadet whose
appearance on the scene promised to spoil all their plans.
But the captain's orders were carried out promptly, the more so as their
own safety depended upon it.
They were not without hope of making good their escape in the end, for
they knew what speed their craft was capable of. It was a fast boat, and
the throbbing of the engines told that she was being urged to her full
speed.
Amid intense excitement of crew and officers, the wild dash for freedom
and safety had begun.
Through all this confusion and flurry the cadet whose prompt signaling
had occasioned it lay helpless and unconscious. The steady thump of the
machinery below, which was steadily carrying him further and further
from his friends, made no impression upon his ears, nor was his mind
aroused by the excitement of the chase or the hope of rescue.
But the race had not been long under way before he began to show signs
of returning consciousness. He stirred uneasily in the bottom of the
boat where he lay, attempting to move his pinioned limbs; then a
long-drawn breath, and he opened his eyes slowly.
The noise from shipboard fell upon his ears, and the sounds confused
him. His surroundings puzzled him and his mind at first could not grasp
the situation. Where was he?
Then with a rush of recollection came the remembrance of the attack upon
him in the open boat. His enemies had triumphed, he thought, and left
him a helpless victim to drift about upon the open sea. But whence those
sounds?
He painfully raised himself to a sitting posture and looked out. To his
astonishment, he found himself and boat upon the deck of a swiftly
moving steamer.
Then he saw it all, and realized what had happened. He caught a glimpse
of the rays of the searchlight that still streamed across the water, and
a moment after heard the boom of a cannon out at sea.
"The New York!" he exclaimed. "She is in pursuit! But she's too far
away, and can never catch this fast boat. The only chance of her
stopping it is with one of her big guns."
And then, involuntarily, he shuddered as he thought that, bound and
helpless, he would share the fate of the Spanish crew if a shot from the
flagship should penetrate the ship's side and send it to the bottom!
He moved a little toward the stern of his boat, as best he could, to get
a better view of the light that showed the approaching flagship. As he
did so he struck a round, hard object that lay behind him.
"The unexploded shell!" he exclaimed, as he recognized what it was. "I
still have that with me, at any rate!"
And then he began to tug at the ropes that bound his arms in a frantic
effort to loosen them.
The rapid throb of the engines below and another boom of cannon from out
to sea told that the chase was becoming a hot one.