Terry's Trials and Triumphs

by J. Macdonald Oxley

The war-ship Minnesota, on which they were passengers in spite of themselves, was on her way to Hampton Roads, Virginia, to strengthen the Federal naval force there, it having been reported that some novel and menacing additions had recently been made to the Confederate navy. As an attack was expected any day, the Minnesota had orders to proceed with the utmost speed direct to Hampton Roads. It was, consequently, impossible for her to land the survivors of the collision, and there was no alternative but for them to accompany her to her destination, and get back to Boston from there as best they might manage.

For both the captain and Terry this was a very distressing state of affairs. The former's presence would be required at once in Boston, to prepare his claim against the company in which his vessel was insured; while the latter burned with impatience to get back to Halifax, and right himself at Drummond and Brown's.

"We're in a fix, and no mistake, Terry," said Captain Afleck, cracking the knuckles of his big horny hands after a fashion he had when perplexed of mind. "Of course, the captain of this ship is not to blame. He's got his orders, and he's bound to obey them, particularly seeing it's war time. But it's mighty hard, all the same, for a fellow to be lugged off like this against his will, and to run the risk of being killed into the bargain."

"Bein' killed!" exclaimed Terry, with a startled look on his face. "Sure, an' what do you mane by that?"

"There now, my boy, don't get scared," replied the captain soothingly. "I didn't mean to tell you just now, but it slipped out unbeknownst to me. You see, it's this way. This war-ship's bound for Hampton Roads, where there's goin' to be a big fight right away, if it hasn't begun already, and it's not likely she'll have a chance to land us before she goes into the thick of it herself; consequently, if it all comes out as the captain expects—and he spoke right to me like an honest man—why, Terry, we're in for a battle, that's all, and not one of our own choosin' either."

The dismay expressed on Terry's countenance would have been comical enough but for the real gravity of the situation. There would, of course, be no call upon the two Nova Scotians to take any part in the conflict. But they would necessarily have to share the danger with the others on board, and they could not expect the shot and shell or flying splinters to make any distinction on their behalf.

"Oh, but that's terrible altogether!" lamented poor Terry. "It's kilt we'll be for sure, and"—here his voice suddenly took a note of indignation, as if fate had been entirely too unkind—"on board a Yankee man-of-war, too! Now, if it might be on a—"

Captain Afleck's hand suddenly clapped over his mouth cut off the rest of the sentence.

"Whist, you young imp," he said in a deep whisper; "keep that to yourself, will you? You'll get knocked on the head if you talk that way here."

He was evidently alarmed at the boy's rashness, and looked anxiously around to see if the words had been overheard. As it chanced, the sailor who had proposed to Terry to join the crew was passing at the moment, and did catch his injudicious remark; but although he had stopped to listen with pricked ears, he was somewhat in doubt as to the boy's exact meaning, and would have liked to hear more. Captain Afleck's prompt action, however, having disappointed him in this, he moved on, but with a scowl on his face that boded ill for Terry should he be found expressing Southern sympathy in a more decided manner.