"Like this," the lieutenant explained. "Santiago, as you must know mighty well, has got a long, narrow channel leadin' to the sea. Well, the water is not extraordinarily deep, and I reckon that a ship sunk sheer across the opening would act as a bung. We can't get in, as you've mentioned. It isn't exactly the kind of job an admiral would fancy, for there are mines placed everywhere in the fair way, to say nothing of the guns linin' the sides."
"Yes, they've mines, I know," Hal interposed, with a smile, remembering his own experience.
"So you do, young fellow. I was forgettin'. Well, we don't take kindly to the notion of walking straight in, so, if the gate is shut tight, it won't matter at all to us. But to the Don it will. He'd be just like a fly in a bottle, and he'd be as much ours as if he sailed out right away, and got knocked to pieces with our shells."
"Yes, I can see that," Hal agreed. "Once he allows himself to be shut in, he will be out of the game altogether. He will be harmless to you, and a dead loss to his own side. In fact, the Spanish fleet will cease to exist."
"Put very nicely, and that is the case," the lieutenant answered. "But now, about this bung. Lieutenant Hobson will put it in position. He's a kind of specialist in naval construction, and this bottlin' game is his plan from the very beginnin'. I can tell you that he's a very fine fellow."
"Why, it will be a most risky undertaking!" exclaimed Hal. "To block the opening efficiently, the ship will have to be sunk close under the batteries. It will mean certain death for all."
"Well, it may," was the answer. "It is frightfully risky, I'll allow; but it is not certain death. You see, the darkest night will be chosen, and every man will be wearin' a life-belt, and will have a raft close handy to swim to. Supposin' the guns do go off, the chances are that no one will be hit. But those torpedoes will be precious nasty, I'll agree. They'll kill if anything does. Yes, now that I come to look into the matter more closely, I'm inclined to fall in with you, young Marchant. It is bound to be very risky; but then, Hobson is a fine, gallant fellow!"
He spoke in tones of the utmost pride, and well he might, for the officer to whom he referred, though only twenty-eight years of age, had already attained to no mean reputation in his profession. And who but a bold and resolute man could have volunteered for such an undertaking as that proposed? Surely no weakling could expect to carry it out, while for a coward to attempt to take part in it, and, more than all, to lead what was no better than a forlorn hope, was ridiculous, and utterly out of the question.
Lieutenant Hobson had a fine spirit, and a glance at his face was sufficient to show the class of man he was. "I leave myself without anxiety in the hands of Almighty God," he wrote, when setting out for the war, and he entered upon this hazardous and all-important enterprise in the same condition of tranquil and absolutely fearless confidence.
"Yes, he must be a plucky beggar," Hal agreed. "I wonder whether—er—er—er——" He became suddenly silent and thoughtful.