CLIF FARADAY'S TEST.
The excitement among the crew of the Spanish steamer was intense as they
watched the light from the flagship and noted the course of the
projectiles that came toward them. For this reason they had not observed
Clif's movements, and gave themselves no concern about him.
Whatever may have been his intended course of action, he was at last
compelled to abandon it.
Strain and tug as he would at the cords that bound his arms, they
remained intact, nor could his ingenuity devise any way of releasing
himself from their hold. Though hastily tied, the knots had been put
there to stay, and Clif at last realized that it was a hopeless task to
try to undo them.
But though he could not free his arms and legs, he could use his eyes,
and the scene was one thrilling enough to rivet his attention.
The fast moving steamer, urged to its utmost speed, the exclamations of
hope and fear among its crew, the more majestically moving flagship
whose deficiencies of speed were more than atoned for by the range of
her guns, suggested possibilities to one in Clif's position that might
well set one's heart to beating wildly.
If the steamer should escape by reason of superior speed, it would
bring joy to the crew, but disaster to Clif, their helpless prisoner.
If, on the other hand, a shot from the flagship should sink the Spanish
boat, Clif perforce would share death with them. Little wonder that
brave as he was, he struggled anxiously to free his arms and legs from
their bonds.
"The New York can never catch us," he exclaimed, when he had settled
down to watching the flagship as best he could. "She is too far away,
and this boat is too fast."
There was little need of the searchlight now, as dawn was approaching.
The forms of the ships could be distinguished in the uncertain light
without its aid.
Clif had been watching the flagship which was astern, but now, looking
forward, he saw a beam of light in that direction. It was several miles
out to sea, and shot across their path.
"That must be the Wilmington," he exclaimed, cheered by a suddenly
revived hope. "She can cut across our path, and all may yet be well."
He looked back at the flagship and saw the red and the blue signal
lights flashing their message to the ship ahead which was, as Clif
surmised, the Wilmington. They also carried a message to Clif, nor was
their meaning lost upon the Spanish crew.
"They have signaled the Wilmington to intercept her," exclaimed Clif.
"But it will be a close race."
He heard the signal from the excited captain of the Spanish boat for
more speed, and the throbbing of the machinery told that they were
endeavoring in the engine rooms to carry out the order. It seemed as if
the engines were already doing their utmost, but Clif could notice a
slight increase in the headway they were making.
It was a fast boat and no mistake, Clif thought, as he anxiously
strained his eyes to see what the Wilmington was doing.
Answering signals told that she had received the order from the
flagship, and that those orders would be obeyed. Clif fervently hoped
that she would be successful. He hated to think of the possibility of a
hostile ship succeeding in running the blockade, and now this patriotic
impulse was heightened by the fact that he was a helpless prisoner on
board the very boat that promised to accomplish that feat.
For, as he watched the race, there was a growing conviction in Clif's
mind that the Wilmington was so far out to sea that she could not hope
to stop the Spanish steamer except by the power of her guns. And a hole
in the side of the enemy's vessel, however desirable under ordinary
circumstances, did not coincide with his hopes or ideas on this
occasion. He had no desire to share a watery grave with his captors.
The two boats were heading for the same point, the Wilmington seeking to
block the path the other was following. One of her guns spoke out, but
the shot fell short. She was not in range.
Faster went the Spanish boat, and nearer to the objective point raced
the two vessels.
Clif breathlessly watched the pursuing craft whose success meant so much
to him. Could she win?
The Spaniards shared his excitement, and watched their opponent with
fully as much eagerness. At last they broke out into a cheer.
Clif was not slow to understand its import. The Spanish boat was making
really a phenomenal run, and had reached a point where it was evident
that if they maintained their speed they would soon be past the
dangerous line. That once reached they could show the Yankee boat a
clean pair of heels.
Clif's spirits fell when he realized that the Spaniards had good cause
for their jubilation. There was no doubt now that the steamer could pass
the danger line and then away.
The Wilmington, too, seemed to realize that there was no hope of
catching up with the other vessel, for now the cannon boomed out in
rapid succession. They were rapidly drawing nearer and within range.
A shot swept across the Spaniard's bows, but on she went. Then another
struck the bridge upon which the captain stood glass in hand, and he had
a narrow escape from flying splinters. But the goal was too near for
them to stop, and he signaled for more steam.
Clif could not but admire this officer's pluck. Under other
circumstances, he would have said that the Spaniard deserved to win.
The vessel seemed to struggle to do what was demanded of her, and sped
on. Another shot from the Wilmington rattled across her bows, but the
crew answered with a cheer. Five minutes more and they would be round
the point and then----
What would happen then was never to be known. Suddenly a loud explosion
was heard from below, and the whole frame of the steamer shook from end
to end. Men rushed on deck in a panic, and wildly proclaimed the cause.
A steam pipe, urged beyond its strength, had exploded, carrying
destruction with it. The race was lost, and the captain promptly hauled
down his flag.
But as he did so, he gave orders to steer toward the land, and the
steamer came to a standstill not far from the shore.
The Spanish army officer carrying the dispatches entered a boat that was
quickly lowered and when the prize crew from the Wilmington boarded the
steamer he was safe upon land and his escape was assured.
When the officer in charge of the prize crew had finished the
formalities, Clif attracted his attention. The cadet had apparently been
forgotten by his captors in the excitement of the chase and the calamity
that had come upon them. The American officer was astonished beyond
measure to find one wearing the familiar uniform in such a plight on
that boat.
"Why, Mr. Faraday," he exclaimed upon learning Clif's identity, and
having released him from his bonds, "we were not aware that they had an
American on board as a prisoner."
"I thought not, from the way you were firing at us," said Clif, with a
smile. "I thought more than once that you would send this particular
American to the bottom along with the shipload of the enemy. You were
firing too accurately to suit me this time."
"Well, the American boys do come pretty near hitting what they aim at,"
responded the officer, evidently pleased at the compliment to their
marksmanship. "But I am curious to know how it has happened that we find
you here."
Clif then briefly told of the adventures that followed his finding of
the unexploded shell, which he picked up from its lodgment in the boat
and held in his hand.
"So you have risked your life for that piece of steel!" exclaimed the
officer. "What can have been your purpose in that?"
"Does it not strike you, sir, that there is something peculiar about
it?" asked Clif, as the other examined it.
"Yes," replied the officer, "it is decidedly out of date, and might be
interesting as a relic, but not of sufficient importance to risk one's
life for."
"I had an idea that there was a mystery about it that was well worth
solving," replied Clif. "And with your permission, sir, I will put the
matter to a test."
"As you like," responded the officer, with the air of a man who is
indulging some childish fancy.
Clif was not slow to take advantage of the permission granted, and
carried the shell to a table that stood upon the after deck, the officer
meantime paying no further attention to him, but attending to some
further detail of transfer.
Clif had procured a fuse and inserted it into the shell and was upon the
point of lighting it when the officer appeared.
"Stop, sir!" he commanded. "Would you blow us all to destruction?"
Others standing near made a move as if to stop Clif, but it was too
late. The fuse was burning rapidly.
With a cry of alarm and amazement, the officers, American as well as
Spanish, sprang to one side and dodged in great fright.
But Clif calmly stood by, his arms folded and a confident smile playing
about his lips.
He was putting his theory to the test.