"It's fine, Terry, isn't it?" said the captain. Then with a quick change of tone he exclaimed, as he grasped the boy's arm in his excitement, "But look there, Terry; what can that queer black thing be up to now? Does she think she can run that fine big frigate down, like this ship did us in Boston Harbour?"
The tone of incredulous surprise was as marked in Captain Afleck's voice as if the ironclad had seemed to be making preparations to fly; yet he had only too correctly guessed the meaning of her next movement. Indeed, before he finished speaking, it was manifest to all; for after exchanging broadsides with the Congress, the Merrimac, paying no heed to the land batteries that were vainly peppering her iron sides with harmless balls, made straight for the Cumberland at the top of her speed, and struck her almost at right angles under the fore-rigging on the starboard side, the heavy iron prow crashing through the wooden sides as though they had been pasteboard, and making a great gaping hole wide enough to admit a horse and cart.
A simultaneous shout of amazement, anger, and dismay went up from the crowded deck of the Minnesota at this startling and horrifying manoeuvre, and in breathless suspense all watched the stricken ship as her assailant withdrew a space and headed up the river, apparently content with her terrific onslaught.
For a few minutes the Cumberland showed no signs of disablement, her guns continuing to be fired with a regularity that spoke volumes for the splendid fortitude of her officers and men.
"She's not done for yet," cried one of the Minnesota's lieutenants exultingly. "That rebel brute will have to try again."
He had hardly spoken when the Cumberland listed badly over to port and began to fill. Down sank the gallant ship, driving her crew to the spar-deck, where they dauntlessly continued to work the pivot-gun, until, with a wild swaying of her tall masts and a sickening shudder of her shattered frame, she plunged beneath the waves, carrying her brave defenders down to an honourable death, yet leaving the Union colours still floating defiantly from her topmast, which projected high above the swirling water.
For the first moment after her disappearance there was an appalling silence on board the Minnesota, and then there broke forth a wild storm of groans, cheers, and curses, as the feelings of her crew found expression. They had witnessed a catastrophe without a parallel in the history of naval warfare. Never before had the tremendous power for harm of the ironclad ram been displayed, and by that one blow the Merrimac had put out of date the navies of the world as then constructed.
Of course Terry neither knew nor cared anything about this; but he could not help being profoundly impressed by the magnitude of the disaster, and his warm Irish heart went out in sympathy towards the gallant men who had stood by their ship to the last moment. In his admiration of their bravery he quite forgot his preference for their victorious opponents.
"O captain," he exclaimed, in a tone of deepest concern, plucking at his companion's arm, "will you look at the poor creatures? Sure they're doing their best to swim ashore, and it's a long way for them too."