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Rapid orders went out, but hardly anything more could be done to increase the speed of the s.h.i.+p. In fact, the lookout must almost have taken it for granted that the strange sail away off yonder belonged to a United States cruiser. Very likely it did, but it would have to draw a good deal nearer before there could be any absolute certainty. In the meantime, all on board the _Goshhawk_ might attend to whatever duties they had, and discuss the remarkable tidings brought by the Mexican schooner. While doing so, they could hardly have guessed correctly what was doing and saying on board the other vessel which had caused their anxiety. She was, indeed, a man-of-war, and she had received from a returning army transport s.h.i.+p a whole lot of fresh news from General Taylor's army, by way of Point Isabel on the coast, where he had been encamped. Something like this had been shouted across the water by an enthusiastic officer of the transport:
"Awful fightin'! Half a dozen battles! Taylor's whipped the Greasers into smithereens! He's goin' to march right on into Mexico. I don't keer if Uncle Sam annexes the hull half-Spanish outfit. I'm goin' in for one o' them there big silver mines, if we do. Hurrah for Gineral Taylor!"
A chorus of ringing cheers had answered that, but here, also, there were men of experience ready to question the entire accuracy of such tremendous war news. The one thing, however, which was brought out clearly to the mind of a naval commander was his greatly increased duty of watchfulness to prevent any kind of munitions of war from reaching the Mexican ports. That was the reason why he was now following at his best speed what might after all prove to be an entirely innocent trader.
He even went below to consider the matter, and it was a full hour later when the officer in charge of the deck came hastily down to tell him:
"Same fellow we chased before, sir. I've made him out. He's under British colors again. Are we to chase?"
"Chase, sir?" roared the captain. "Of course we must chase! We know what it means now. The old _Portsmouth_ must catch that rascal this time.
I'll come on deck."
Just as good gla.s.ses as those on board of her had been watching her during that hour of swift sailing, and Captain Kemp was even now lowering his telescope with what sounded like a sigh of relief.
"Mate," he said, "it's the same sloop that followed us before. It makes me feel better. We know what's about the best she can do. If this wind holds, I think we can fetch Vera Cruz at nightfall. No one Yankee'd dare to follow us under the guns of San Juan de Ulua."
"I reckon not," slowly responded the mate of the _Goshhawk_, "but we don't need to get under that chap's bow-chasers, either."
"No," said Captain Kemp, "but I'll risk a shot or two."
Ned Crawford heard him, for he had been following him pretty closely, to know what was coming.
"I don't know," he was thinking, "how far one o' those cannon of hers'll carry. I don't believe, either, that they can hit a mark that is plunging along as we are. It'd be worse than shooting at a bird on the wing. Still, it's kind of awful to be shot at by our own people."
The sailors of the _Goshhawk_ were also thinking, and they were beginning to look at one another very doubtfully. Not only were they Americans, most of them, but they had not s.h.i.+pped for any such business as this, and they did not fancy the idea of being killed for nothing. Moreover, Ned himself heard one of them muttering:
"There's an ugly look to this thing. If a shot from that cruiser were to strike us amids.h.i.+ps, we'd all be blown into the air."
Decidedly that was not a pleasant thing to think of. Neither was there any great amount of comfort in a suggestion made by another of the men:
"Well, we'd never know what hurt us. We must keep out o' range."
Not long afterward there was a flash at one of the bow-ports of the cruiser. The report which followed was a peremptory order to heave to, under penalty of consequences. The gun was shotted, and a great many eyes watched anxiously for the dipping of that well-aimed ball of iron.
It skipped from crest to crest of several waves before it sank, and then Captain Kemp shouted:
"All right, men! Half a mile short! We shall get there. The coast's in full sight now, and we've less than five miles to run."
"Ay, ay, sir!" came back from them, half cheerfully, but one voice was heard to grumble:
"It's all right, is it? Well, if it wasn't for that half-mile o'
shortage, there'd be a mutinee-e on board o' this s.h.i.+p. I'd start it. I ain't a-goin' to get myself knocked on the head by Uncle Sam's own men."
There would very likely have been a mutiny, even as it was, if there had now been time for it to take shape. Thus far, the excitement of the chase had been in the captain's favor, but the seamen would have been legally justified in resisting him and bringing the s.h.i.+p to. His authority would have ceased, for he had no right to compel them to break the law or to run the risk of a broadside from a man-of-war.
Nearer, nearer, nearer, came both the dim outline of the Mexican coast and the white sails of the pursuing _Portsmouth_. Louder and more ominous grew the but half-suppressed murmurs of the sailors, but Captain Kemp's face was now wearing a hard, set look, and he was known to be a dangerous man to deal with. Something, which looked like the handle of a pistol, stuck out of one of his side pockets, and his fingers wandered to it now and then, as if he might be turning over in his mind the possibility of soon having to shoot a mutineer. Ned was staring anxiously back at the Yankee cruiser at the moment when his shoulder was gripped hard, and Senor Zuroaga almost whirled him around, exclaiming:
"Look! Look yonder! That's the Castle of San Juan de Ulua! Oh, but don't I wish it were a half-mile nearer! Hear that firing?"
The guns of the _Portsmouth_ were indeed sounding at regular intervals, and she was evidently almost within range. She was also, however, well within the prescribed distance line which a hostile cruiser may not pa.s.s without being regarded as making the attack herself. Beyond a doubt, too, there must have been observers at the fort, who were already watching the operations of the two approaching vessels. Minutes pa.s.sed, which were counted by Ned with a heart that beat so he almost thought he could hear it.
"I think we are safe now," began the senor, but he had been looking at the fort, and there was one important fact of which he was not aware.
Only a couple of minutes earlier, the captain of the _Portsmouth_ had shouted angrily to his first lieutenant:
"No, sir! I will not let her get away. I will take her or sink her! Out with that starboard battery, and let them have it!"
Around swung the sloop, like the perfect naval machine that she was, and there quickly followed the reports of several guns at once. It was not a full broadside, but there was enough of it to have sunk the _Goshhawk_, if the iron thrown had struck her at or near the water-line. None of it did so, but the next exclamation of Senor Zuroaga was one of utter dismay, for the foremast of the bark had been cut off at the cap and there was a vast rent in her mainsail. Down tumbled a ma.s.s of spars and rigging, forward, and the s.h.i.+p could no longer obey her helm.
"All hands cut away wreckage!" shouted Captain Kemp. "We're all right.
She won't dare come any nearer. Hurrah!"
It was a deep, thunderous roar from the castle which had called out that apparently untimely hurrah. It was the voice of a 64-pounder gun from the nearest rampart, and the shot it sent fell within ten feet of the _Portsmouth's_ bows.
"Hullo!" exclaimed her captain, more angrily than ever. "We've run in almost to pointblank range of those heavy guns. About! About!
Lieutenant, we must get out of this."
"All right, sir," was anxiously responded. "It isn't worth while to risk any more shot of that size--not for all there's likely to be under the hatches of that wretched bark. I think we barked her, anyhow."
He may have meant that for a kind of small joke, but she had been worse hurt than he could know, for one 32-pounder shot had shattered her stern, barely missing her sternpost and rudder gearing, and she was no longer the trim and seaworthy vessel that she had been. One more heavy gun had sounded from the seaward battery of the castle, but her garrison had been in a genuinely Mexican condition of unreadiness, and it was several minutes before they could bring up more ammunition and make further use of their really excellent artillery. During those minutes, the _Portsmouth_ had ample opportunity given her to swing around and sweep swiftly out of danger. She had barely escaped paying dearly for her pursuit of the _Goshawk._ Her satisfaction, however, consisted only in part of the damage she had done to the bark, for, in getting around, she had let drive her entire larboard broadside. It was a waste of ammunition, certainly, but no Yankee man-of-war commander would ever have forgiven himself if he had failed to make a good reply to a shot from the Castle of San Juan de Ulua. Moreover, the sloop's gunners were ready to swear solemnly that every ball they had sent had hit the fort.
The excitement on board the _Goshhawk_ had been at fever heat, but it was now diminis.h.i.+ng rapidly, for she did not contain a man who was not well pleased to see the _Portsmouth_ give the matter up. All signs of mutiny disappeared, of course, for there was no more duty of a military character to be required of the men. The bark was soon set free of her wreckage, and prepared to make her way in still further, under the protection of the fort batteries. Captain Kemp was too busy for any kind of conversation, and Senor Zuroaga came aft, to where Ned was curiously studying the work of the 32-pound shot at the stern. The senor leaned over the side and did the same for a long moment before he remarked:
"We have had a narrow escape. A few feet lower, and that shot would have let the water in. Fifty feet forward, and it would have touched off the gunpowder. As it is, our voyage is ended, and I shall know, in an hour or two, whether or not I am to be shot in the morning."
CHAPTER IV.
COMPLETELY STRANDED
"There don't seem to be any Mexican wars.h.i.+ps in the harbor," said Ned to the senor, as they looked landward from the deck of their badly mauled bark. "There isn't one in sight to come out after that sloop."
"There are two good reasons for it," growled the senor, gloomily. "One is that there isn't any harbor here. Nothing but an open roadstead, exposed to all the storms that come, so that to anchor off Vera Cruz is to run a fair chance of being wrecked. The other is that my unfortunate country has no navy. There isn't a Mexican vessel afloat that would care to go out after a Yankee man-of-war. We are not yet a nation, and I'm half-afraid we never will be. This war may do something for us. There they come! I shall know very soon now."
As he spoke, he pointed at several boats which were pulling out toward the _Goshawk._ Some of them appeared to come from the wharves of the city, but one, which was nearer, was evidently from the castle, and it was in this that the senor took the deepest interest. Besides its half-dozen of oarsmen, it contained a tall man in a gorgeous uniform, and it was only a minute or so before Zuroaga exclaimed:
"Yes, that is Colonel Guerra himself. I am glad he is all alone!"
The bark was now drifting pretty rapidly landward, under such canvas as she had left, and the _Portsmouth_ was safely out of range of the Mexican guns, which were throwing away an occasional shot at her. She had not been touched by one of them, and she had the honor of being the first United States s.h.i.+p to try her batteries upon the renowned old Spanish fortress. It was, indeed, a well-built fortification, and it carried many guns, most of which had been brought over long ago from the foundries of old Spain. It did not stand upon the main sh.o.r.e, but on an island about half a mile out, and it therefore seemed una.s.sailable, except from the sea or by heavy siege-guns on the sh.o.r.e. It had been one of the last places surrendered when the Spanish government reluctantly gave up Mexico. From that day onward, in each of the successive revolutions, it had been a first object with each new tyrant of the nominal republic or empire to get control of the fortress, which dominated nearly all of the commerce of Mexico with the outer world. At the present time, it was commanded by an officer whom President Paredes believed that he could trust--or he would have shot him. This, of course, was the main reason for the dark doubts of Senor Zuroaga. On the other hand, it might be taken into account that any prominent Mexican officer, like Colonel Guerra, would be willing to strengthen himself for such political changes as were entirely likely to come. For the sake of old friends.h.i.+p and family ties, for instance, he might be even desirous of binding to his own interests a man who was known to have a large number of personal adherents in the important State of Oaxaca.
That very man stood aft upon the deck of the _Goshhawk_ when the boat of Colonel Guerra touched her side, but he did not at once come forward to extend a greeting. That ceremony was performed sufficiently well by Captain Kemp, and the responses of the castle commander were to the last degree enthusiastic. According to him, indeed, the fort could not have held out against a siege for a week without the powder in the hold of the bark. Therefore, it might be that not much of it was likely to be distributed among the other forces of Mexico. The captain had many things to say, but before long Colonel Guerra walked slowly aft without anybody following him. He may have merely desired to look over the side and examine the injuries inflicted by the shot of the _Portsmouth_, for that was the first thing he did, without so much as appearing to recognize any human being in the neighborhood. One of the two persons who were there, however, drew slowly near him, and, as he did so, he heard the colonel mutter, in a very low tone:
"My dear friend, you have done well to bring me the powder. Thank you for your devotion to me and to Santa Anna, but you are in deadly peril.
The orders of Paredes are out against you. General Morales, whom Paredes trusts, will soon be here to supersede me, but he will really come to hold this place for our general when he returns from exile. Consider that I do not know that you are here, for my next in command is a spy on me. This s.h.i.+p will never put to sea again. The captain and crew will be cared for, but that gringo boy is not safe, now that there has been bloodshed on the Rio Grande. Take him with you to the house of your cousin, Colonel Ta.s.sara, in the lower part of the city. Then get away to Oaxaca as soon as you can. President Paredes is still in the city of Mexico, and he will not go to take command of the army in the north for some time. You and I believe, of course, that he is really gathering it to have it led by our one-legged hero, Santa Anna. Paredes, however, suspects that a revolution is springing up under him, and he is watching for it. Of course, for that reason, he would shoot you at once as a returned conspirator against him. As for that matter, be careful how you land, for there are many spies. No doubt you can go where you please, after you get back among your own people. Farewell, but do not speak to me."
He turned and strolled carelessly away, and the senor bowed his head for a moment, as if in deep thought, while Ned Crawford was aware of an entirely new idea, which had crept into his mind as he had listened to the warning utterances of Colonel Guerra.