The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats kept up their fire.
The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which was now endeavouring to get away. The Merrimac fired upon her, gun after gun.
Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to fire.
The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she sank, with her guns firing as she went down.
Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The Doctor observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed heavily, but did not speak.
The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship aground; and white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.
Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore batteries, and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to prevent the capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the great craft fired again and again into the surrendered vessel, and set her afire.
Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also was aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.
The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until she was lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning ship was a sheet of flame; we could see men leap from her deck; boats put off from the shore.
"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.