THE DEPARTURE OF THE TALLAHATCHIE
The fog, which had been coming and going during the whole of the night,
had now lifted so that everything in the vicinity of the fort could be
seen; but across the point, down the ship channel, it was dense, dark,
and black. The wind was fresh from the south-west, which rolled up the
fog banks, and then rolled them away. Such was the atmospheric condition
near Mobile Point, and Christy believed it was the same at the
southward. He thought it probable that the commander of the Tallahatchie
would wait for a more favorable time than the present appeared to be
before he got under way.
"All hands to the forecastle," he called to the men on the cotton bales.
All of them, knowing his voice as well as they knew their own names,
hastened to answer to the call.
"We have to heave up the anchor with a windlass, Mr. Graines," said he
to the engineer. "We had better get the hang of it while we have time to
do so. Ship the handspikes, my men."
Doubtless all of them had worked a windlass before, for every one of
them was an able seaman, which had been one of the elements in their
selection, and they went to work very handily. A turn or two was given,
which started the vessel ahead, showing that the anchor was not hove
entirely short. Graines went to the bow, and reported a considerable
slant of the cable with the surface of the water. Christy ordered the
six seamen to work the windlass, with French to take in the slack. They
continued to heave over with the handspikes for some time longer.
"Cable up and down, sir," reported Graines.
"Avast heaving!" added the lieutenant; and he had taken the command,
paying no attention to the fact that he was the second mate under the
new order of things, and the engineer did not remind him that he was
the chief officer. "Let off the cable a couple of notches, so that the
anchor will not break out. Make fast to the bitts, French, but don't
foul it with the towline."
"We are all right now," said Graines, as he moved aft from the heel of
the bowsprit.
"What time is it now?" asked the lieutenant. "Bring that lantern
forward, Lines."
"Ten minutes of three," replied the engineer, holding his watch up to
the light.
"The fog is settling down again, and I have no doubt the captain of
the steamer will get under way at about the hour named," said Christy,
putting his hand on the wire towline, and giving it a shake, to assure
himself that it was all clear. "Now, Mr. Graines, or rather, Mr. Balker,
as you are the mate and I am only the second mate, I think you had
better go aft and see that all goes well there."
"Very well, Mr. Sandman; I will leave you in charge of the forecastle,"
replied the engineer, with a light laugh; but they had been boys
together, and understood each other perfectly.
"Captain Sullendine is the only dangerous man on board, and I think you
had better look after him," added Christy. "If there is any lock on the
door of his stateroom, it would be well to turn the key."
"I will look after him at once, sir," answered Graines, as he leaped
upon the cotton bales and made his way to the quarter-deck.
On the way he examined the condition of Sopsy, and found him snoring
like a roaring lion, in an uneasy position. He turned him over on his
side, and then went to the lair of Bokes, who was in the same condition;
and he concluded that neither of them would come to his senses for a
couple of hours at least.
Captain Sullendine had been assisted to a comfortable position when he
turned in, and he was sleeping with nothing to disturb him. There was no
lock on the door, and Graines could not turn the key. The interior of
the cabin was finished in the most primitive manner, for the vessel had
not been built to accommodate passengers. The door of the captain's
stateroom was made of inch and a half boards, with three battens, and
the handle was an old-fashioned bow-latch. There was a heavy bolt on the
inside, as though the apartment had been built to enable the master to
fortify himself in case of a mutiny.
The engineer could not fasten the door with any of the fixtures on it;
but it opened inward, as is generally the case on shipboard, and this
fact suggested to the ingenious officer the means of securing it even
more effectually than it could have been done with a lock and key. In
the pantry he found a rolling-pin, which the cook must have left there
for some other purpose.
This implement he applied to the bow-handle of the fixture on the door.
It would not fit the iron loop, but he whittled it down on one side
with his pocket-knife till he made it fit exactly in its place with some
hard pressure. But shaking the door might cause it to drop out, and he
completed the job by lashing it to the handle of the door with a lanyard
he had in his pocket. When he had finished his work he was confident the
captain could not get out of his room unless he broke down the door,
which he lacked the means to accomplish.
"West Wind, ahoy!" shouted some one from the stern of the steamer before
the engineer had completed his work in the cabin.
Christy thought that French's voice was a better imitation of Captain
Sullendine's than his own, and he directed him to reply to the hail,
telling him what to say.
"On board the Tallahatchie!" returned the seaman at the lieutenant's
dictation.
"Are you all ready?" shouted the same officer.
"All ready, sir!" replied French.
"Captain Rombold will get under way in five minutes!" called the speaker
on the stern of the steamer. "Wait for three short whistles, and then
heave up your anchor!"
"Understood, and all right," added the spokesman of the West Wind.
"Captain Rombold!" exclaimed Christy to himself, as he heard for the
first time the name of the commander of the Tallahatchie.
The lieutenant, acting as the servant of the French detective at St.
George's in the Bermudas, had seen Captain Rombold, and had heard him
converse for an hour with Mr. Gilfleur, when he was in command of the
Dornoch, which had been captured by the Chateaugay, on board of which
Christy was a passenger. He was known to be a very able and brave
officer, and his defeat was owing more to the heavier metal of the loyal
ship than to any lack of skill or courage on the part of the Confederate
commander. The last the young officer knew about him, he was a prisoner
of war in New York, and had doubtless been exchanged for some loyal
officer of equal rank, for the enemy had plenty of them on hand.
"Man the windlass, my lads," said Christy in a quiet tone, though he was
still thinking of the commander of the steamer which was to tow out the
schooner.
While he was waiting for the three short whistles, Graines came forward
and reported in what manner he had secured the captain, and that the two
men on the cotton bales were still insensible.
"You may be sure the captain will not come out of his stateroom until we
let him out," added the engineer; and Christy proceeded to explain what
had passed between the schooner and the steamer.
"The Tallahatchie has one of the ablest commanders that sail the ocean,
for I have seen and know him," continued the lieutenant. "It is Captain
Rombold, now or formerly, of the British Navy. He is a gentleman and a
scholar, as well as a brave and skilful officer."
"Then Captain Breaker may have his hands full before he captures the
steamer," added the engineer.
"He certainly will; but a great deal depends upon the weight of the
Tallahatchie's metal."
"We shall soon have a chance to judge of that."
"I should like to know something more about this steamer, though my
father's letter gives us the principal details; but we have no time now
to examine her," continued Christy.
"Who's that?" demanded Graines, as he saw a man walking forward over the
bales of cotton.
It proved to be Bokes, who had slept off a part of the effects of the
debauch; but Sopsy had probably consumed a large portion of the contents
of his bottle.
"Does you uns happen to have any more apple-jack?" asked the fellow.
"Somehow I lost nigh all o' mine, and I'm sufferin', dyin' for a drink."
"French, take him to the deck-house, and fasten him in," said Christy in
a low tone.
"Come with me, my hearty, and we'll see what there is in the
deck-house," said the seaman, as he took the man by the arm and led him
to the place indicated. "Now go in and find your bunk. Get into it, and
I will look for a bottle here."
[Illustration: "Dowse that glim in your fo'castle!" Page 111.]
Bokes crept to his bunk, and stretched himself out there. French took
the bottle the lieutenant had emptied into the bay, and gave it to him.
Then he closed the door, and finding a padlock and hasp on it, he locked
him in. Two of the three men who had remained on board of the schooner
were now prisoners; and Sopsy was considered as harmless as a fishworm.
French had hardly reported what he had done before the three short
whistles were sounded, and Christy gave the order to heave up the
anchor.
"West Wind, ahoy!" shouted the same officer who had spoken before.
"On board the steamer!" replied French, when he was directed to reply.
"Dowse that glim on your fo'castle!" shouted the officer, as with a
liberal dose of profanity he demanded if they were all fools on board of
the schooner. "Put out every light on board!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" responded French, as Graines extinguished the lantern on
the forecastle; and Christy directed him to do the same with the cabin
lamp.
He looked at his watch before he put it out, and found it was
quarter-past three. The captain of the steamer had evidently waited for
a favorable moment to start on his perilous voyage, and the engineer
noticed when he went forward after he had secured Captain Sullendine,
that the fog was again settling down on the bay.
"On board the steamer!" shouted French, as directed. "Anchor aweigh,
sir!" Then a minute later, "All clear, and the towline slack!"
From the sounds that came from the forward part of the steamer, it was
evident that she had heaved up her anchor before she gave the three
whistles for the schooner to do so.
"West Wind, ahoy!" called the officer from the Tallahatchie. "Stand by
your helm with your best man!"
Graines had just gone aft, and had taken the wheel of the vessel; but
Christy sent French to take his first trick at the helm. The tide was
still setting into the bay, and it was within half an hour of the flood.
The schooner was beginning to sway off from the shore as the tide struck
her, when the gong bell in the engine-room of the steamer was heard. She
went ahead very slowly, and straightened the towline. Christy took a
careful survey of its fastenings, to assure himself that it was all
right, and then mounted the cotton bales, to observe the progress of the
vessel.
Of course the steamer was under the direction of a skilful pilot,
doubtless the best that could be had, for the present venture was an
exceedingly important one to the Confederate cause. The Tallahatchie
was perhaps a better vessel than any of those which had done so much
mischief among the ships of the loyal American marine, and in no manner
could the Southern cause be more effectually assisted than by these
cruisers.
As the vessels headed to the southward, Christy went to the binnacle,
and watched the course.