As she slumbered on—like a huge sea-turtle—a black cloud of smoke appeared above the break-water, and a low-bodied United States cruiser slowly steamed into the harbor. She nosed about, as if looking for safe anchorage, and kept upon the opposite side of the little bay.
Immediately all hands clambered to the side of the Confederate cruiser, and glasses were levelled at this vessel which carried the flag of opposition.
“She’s stronger than we are,” said one of the crew.
Another grinned.
“Look at her eleven-pounders,” said he. “I see her name, now. She’s the Kearsarge, and about our tonnage, but I reckon that she carries more men.”
Captain Semmes, himself, had come up from below, and was examining the intruder with his glass.
“Boys!” said he, “we’ve got to fight that ship.”
And, as he withdrew into the cabin, all seemed to be well pleased with this announcement.
The Kearsarge, commanded by Captain John A. Winslow, had been lying at anchor in the Scheldt, off Flushing, Holland, when a gun roared from the forward part of the ship, warning those officers who had gone ashore, to come on board. Steam was raised, and, as soon as all were collected on deck, the Captain read a telegram from Mr. Dayton, the Minister to France from the United States. It said:
“The Alabama has arrived at Cherbourg. Come at once or she will escape you!”