Terry's Trials and Triumphs Part 6

"And leave me here?" cried Terry, laying hold of his arm with both hands, as though he thought he were about to go at once.

"No, you young rogue," responded the captain, taking him by the collar and shaking him just for fun; "of course not. I won't go without you, seein' that I'm mainly to blame for your being here."

Greatly relieved in his mind, and putting implicit faith in his big friend's ability to get them both out of their present complications, Terry, with the volatility of his race, dismissed all further concern on that point from his mind, and stood ready for the next thing that might turn up.

His was a happy nature in many ways. He liked the idea that "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." He was not given to taking much thought for the morrow. To do this was one of the lessons in life he had to learn. In the meantime he lived in the present hour, getting the most out of it he knew how, and leaving the future to take care of itself.

That night he had nothing better than a coil of rope for a bed and a bit of tarpaulin for a coverlet; but he slept as soundly as if on his straw mattress at home, and woke up in the morning with an appet.i.te that many a millionaire might envy.

Awaking at dawn next morning, he hastened on deck to find the powerful _Minnesota_ steaming at full speed southward, with the coast hardly visible on the right. His heart sank as he realized that every minute was taking him further from home, and nearer the indefinite dangers which he must share so long as he remained on board the war-s.h.i.+p.

He had gone up to the bow, and was leaning over the bulwarks lost in perplexing thought, when a voice behind him said tauntingly,--

"Well, young 'un, have you been thinkin' over what I said about taking service with us?"

And Terry turned round to face the sailor who had overheard his interrupted utterance the night before.

He did not at all like the look of the man. He had a crafty, cruel face, and apparently relished the prospect of having a good chance to tease the Bluenose boy who had been thrown in his way. The North was well aware how strongly sympathy with the South ran in Halifax; and as Terry came from that city, the Yankee sailor would have taken it for granted that the boy sided with the enemy, even though he had had no other ground for the belief.

Not knowing what reply to make, Terry discreetly kept silence, and his questioner continued,--

"You're kinder bashful, I reckon, and don't like to say how glad you'd be of the chance."

Now this, of course, was far from being Terry's state of mind, as the sailor well knew; yet the boy shrank from admitting it. Had the place been Long Wharf, he would not have hesitated for a moment to give a Roland for the other's Oliver, and then trusted to his legs to carry him out of danger. But on the deck of the sailor's own s.h.i.+p it was an altogether different matter.

His position was certainly calculated to teach him a fine lesson in self-control. But it is very doubtful if he would have been equal to the strain. Happily, before he was tempted overmuch, Captain Afleck appeared upon the scene, and taking in the situation at a glance, called him to him, as though he had something to communicate of importance.

Glad of this diversion, Terry turned his back upon the sailor, and joined the captain, who, when they had moved apart a little, proceeded to say,--

"You mustn't be talkin' with the sailors, my boy, any more than you can help, or you'll be puttin' your foot in it for sure. They're a mighty touchy lot, I can tell you; and if they find you letting on that you want the Southerners to win, there's no sayin' how hot they'll make it for you."

Terry promised to be careful, adding with a rueful face,--

"Oh! but it's meself that wants to be off the botherin' s.h.i.+p. Sure I never axed to be aboard her, and it's sick I am of her entirely."

Captain Afleck could not keep back a laugh. The boy seemed so deeply concerned about his perplexities whenever he stopped to think of them, although he could forget them so completely when something else engaged his mind.

"Keep your heart up, Terry," he said, in a cheering tone. "We're on a losin' tack now seemingly, but we may 'bout s.h.i.+p soon. Come along with me and see if they won't give us some breakfast."

They found a ready welcome at one of the sailors' messes, and a big piece of bread washed down with steaming coffee perceptibly lightened Terry's spirits, for the time being at all events.

All that day and the next the _Minnesota_ maintained her strenuous speed; and as the afternoon wore on, the signs of bustle and excitement on board, and the earnest way in which the men talked together, showed that they were rapidly nearing their destination.

The approach of battle is a serious enough matter when the forces on both sides are pretty well known, and the character of the undertaking can be at least measurably estimated; but it is a very different matter when neither of these things is known, and when the affair is very much of a leap in the dark.

Now this was just the state of things on the _Minnesota_. No one on board, not even her captain, had any clear knowledge of the perils and difficulties to be encountered. The Confederate naval force might be found overwhelmingly strong or miserably weak. Moreover, there were certain disturbing rumours afloat about an alarming novelty, in the way of a naval monster, against which no wooden vessel would have the slightest chance. Of this mystery the Norfolk navy-yard still held the secret, although it was generally believed to be about ripe for revelation.

CHAPTER VI.

IN HAMPTON ROADS.

To make entirely clear the position of the _Minnesota_ at this point, some words of explanation are necessary here. The American Civil War was raging hotly, with the advantage if anything on the side of the Southern Confederacy. In the spring of the year 1861, the Federal forces had hurriedly abandoned their great naval establishment at Norfolk in the State of Virginia, why or wherefore it would be hard to say; for they had completed an effective blockade of Hampton Roads, and might have held their ground against all the forces likely to attack them.

But some sudden panic seizing them, they fled across Chesapeake Bay to Fortress Monroe, leaving vast quant.i.ties of cannons and other munitions of war to fall into the hands of their opponents. They sought to consign the navy-yard, together with a number of s.h.i.+ps they could not take away, to the flames, but the destruction was far from complete; and the Southern soldiers appeared upon the scene in time to rescue much precious material from the fire--among their spoils being twelve hundred guns, that were afterwards distributed through their fortifications from the Potomac to the Mississippi, where they did sore damage to their former owners.

Among the war-s.h.i.+ps burned and sunk at the navy-yard upon its abandonment was the fine frigate _Merrimac_, of over three thousand tons, and carrying forty guns. On coming into possession of the establishment, the Confederates raised this vessel and rebuilt her, but not on the same plan as before. Instead of being a handsome three-masted s.h.i.+p, with swelling sails, heavy rigging, and black and white checked sides, she became an extraordinary-looking ironclad, the like of which the world had never seen before, and which was destined to effect a complete revolution in the navies of the nations.

Vague rumours concerning this wonderful construction had found their way northward, and it was in response to the call for a strengthening of the blockading fleet in Chesapeake Bay that the _Minnesota_ had been despatched in hot haste from Boston, and was ploughing her way towards Old Point Comfort, that now showed upon the port bow. At Fortress Monroe, which crowned the Point, she would receive her orders; and the thought of what these might be sent a thrill to the heart of every man and boy on board, from the captain down to the youngest powder-monkey.

The sun had already sunk behind the western hills before the frigate reached the Point; and the navigation of Hampton Roads being somewhat difficult, her captain decided to anchor for the night and take on a pilot in the morning. In the meantime, he himself, accompanied by two of his chief officers, went off in a launch to Fortress Monroe, to be informed of the situation and to receive instructions.

As Terry saw the launch shoot away from the vessel's side, there came over him a wild impulse to spring on board her, that he too might be taken ash.o.r.e. He had already begged the boatswain to let him go, and had been contemptuously rebuffed; but this, instead of quieting him, only intensified his desire to get off the s.h.i.+p before there should be any fighting. He now saw what seemed to him his only chance, and without pausing to consider the folly of his enterprise, darted past the sailors at the gangway-ladder, bounded down the steps, and as the boat swung clear, gathering all his strength into one supreme effort, he sprang out towards her.

For a mere boy it was a grand attempt, but it failed nevertheless.

Just as he leaped, the boatswain shouted, "Give way now;" and, driven by twelve brawny oarsmen, the launch shot forward so swiftly that Terry's spring fell short, and he himself vanished in the swirling water!

But only for a moment. Almost before the spectators realized what had happened, his head appeared above the surface, and with skilful strokes he made for the gangway, where a sailor was awaiting him with a grinning face and a helping hand.

"Well, you are a daisy, and no mistake," he exclaimed, in an unmistakable tone of admiration, as he drew the dripping boy up to the platform. "What on earth possessed you to do that?"

Terry gave a despairing glance at the departing boat, now fifty yards away, whose occupants had taken no more notice of his plunge than if it had been the jumping of a pollack, before replying. Then he said with a bitter sigh, as he blew the brine out of his mouth,--

"I wanted to go ash.o.r.e in her. The bosun wouldn't let me aboard, bad cess to him, so I thought I'd jump for it."

By this time a number of the sailors had gathered round, while several officers were looking over the bulwarks, and Terry's explanation was received with a murmur of astonishment. Standing in the awe they did of the captain of the s.h.i.+p, the idea of this slip of an Irish lad having the audacity to thrust himself on the launch not merely uninvited, but after having been flatly refused, was nothing short of astounding. They had not taken much interest in the boy before, but now they regarded him as quite a novel type, his proceeding had been so utterly out of the ordinary.

"Come up on deck, my boy, and get some dry clothes on you," called put one of the officers. "That was certainly a das.h.i.+ng attempt of yours, even if it didn't come off as you hoped."

Thus commanded, Terry ascended the gangway again, feeling sorely crestfallen, yet as determined as ever to seize the next opportunity that presented itself of getting away from the frigate. When given a sailor's suit that fitted him fairly enough, he at first refused to put it on; but Captain Afleck insisted, and so he yielded, on condition that he might resume his own garments as soon as they were dried.

Thanks to his being in uniform, he was allotted a hammock that night, and forgot his disappointment in the most comfortable sleep he had enjoyed since going on board the vessel, from which he was roused the next morning by an unusual bustle on deck, which foretold the nearness of some important enterprise.

When he came on deck, he found the _Minnesota_ already well under way, making up Hampton Roads towards Newport News in company with two other frigates, the _Roanoke_ and the _St. Lawrence_. There was intense excitement on board, and every one whose duty permitted him to be on deck seemed to be watching eagerly for something to appear out of the Elizabeth River to the southward. Presently an officer who stood on the main-truck with a powerful gla.s.s called out,--

"I see her! She's coming down past Craney Island Flats."

All eyes were at once strained in the direction indicated; but it was some time yet before there came into general view, just off Sewell's Point, so strange a craft that it was at once agreed it could be none other than the much-dreaded naval novelty of which such disturbing stories had been in circulation.

So far as Terry could make out, this mysterious marine marvel was like a queer-looking house afloat on a raft. There were no masts; a short, thick funnel explained how she was propelled. The roof of the house was flat, surrounded by a light iron railing, and boasting two slight poles, from which floated Confederate flags. The side walls sloped in at a decided angle, and the two ends were rounded off into a semicircular shape, the whole being heavily plated with iron.

From a single row of port-holes the muzzles of ten powerful rifled guns projected, the entire effect being warlike in the extreme; for the thing was evidently a fighting-machine, and nothing else, whose power for harm had yet to be gauged by actual experience.

At first the new-comer's course was pointed straight in the direction of the _Minnesota_, and there was not a man on board so indifferent to danger that he did not feel a keen thrill of apprehension as this strange and menacing antagonist came slowly onward.

The crew at once beat to quarters, and every preparation was made for a desperate defence; but to the undeniable relief of all, the engagement did not then take place, as the Confederate ironclad, after clearing Sewell's Point, turned due west, and headed for Newport News, where the wooden frigates _Congress_, of fifty guns, and _c.u.mberland_, of thirty guns, were swinging lazily by their anchors. Their boats were hanging to the lower booms, and rows of washed clothing flapped in the rigging, showing plainly that those on board were quite unconscious of their danger and expecting no attack.