Long and loud were the peals of laughter that greeted us when we regained the Rattler’s quarter-deck, where we found most of the officers assembled to await our return, to whom we had to narrate the whole of the incidents of the night’s adventure. Our surgeon announced that Mr. Osborne was in his cot, and was suffering much from his sprained ankle; so Mr. Thompson mercifully left him alone, vowing he would have his revenge at a more suitable opportunity.
The next morning the American captain, his wife, and the rest of the party came off and breakfasted with Captain Graves by the latter’s express invitation; and from the peals of laughter that issued from within, it was evident that host and guests were in the highest good-humour. Afterwards the Americans briefly inspected the ship, and then rowed back to the Snapping Turtle; while we made every preparation for departing in search of the Flying-fish and her piratical crew.
After the ship’s company had had their dinner, the boatswain piped “Up anchor!” and half an hour later we were standing out to sea under a full head of steam.
CHAPTER II.
WE STORM THE FORT.
After a long and patient search, our vigilance was rewarded by the discovery of the Flying-fish, securely moored in an almost land-locked creek on the southern coast of Cuba. It was impossible for the Rattler to enter, on account of her draught; nor could she bring her guns to bear on the merchantman, for that craft was protected by an outlying spit of land, over which her spars alone were visible.
Under these circumstances there was no alternative but to send in some of the boats to cut her out; and the pinnace, the first and second cutters, and the jolly-boat were quickly got in readiness for the service. As far as we could see with our glasses, there was a battery on the heights above the creek; but as it was probably garrisoned by Spanish regulars, Captain Graves refrained from opening fire. We soon, however, saw the true nature of this work; for, as soon as the crew of the Flying-fish saw that we were going to push in with our boats, they abandoned their ship, and putting off to the shore, leisurely retreated into the fort, where we saw them get into readiness to open fire as soon as our flotilla should get within range. It was pretty evident that they were being encouraged in their resistance by bodies of insurgents, who had apparently seized the battery and killed or dispersed the Spanish garrison.
Mr. Thompson commanded the flotilla of boats, and took his station in the pinnace, which carried a nine-pounder Armstrong gun in the bows. He had previously sent for Charlie Balfour and myself, who were to go in the first and second cutters, and had given us an outline of the proposed operations.
“There is little doubt of our success, Mr. Darcy,” he had said laughingly; “but I must warn you and your brother-midshipman not to allow your men to waste their ammunition, and mind you attend strictly to any orders I may issue from the pinnace.”
“Jolly spree this will be, Jack; won’t it?” Charlie had sung out to me just as we were getting into our respective boats.
“The best lark we’ve had all the commission, I expect,” I had answered with boyish thoughtlessness.