"So much the better," replied the officer, cheerfully.
"This whale-boat will not be much better than a cockle-shell in that surf."
"She will go through it, if she is well handled."
"Ay, ay, sir; of course she will."
"The rebels will not expect a boat to land in such a surf and on such a night. We shall not be expected," replied Somers, in a loud tone, for whispers and soft speech could not be heard above the roar of the billows.
The commander of the expedition stood up in the stern-sheets, and attempted to penetrate the gloom and fog in the direction of the beach; but neither sight nor sound of the shore could be obtained. To plunge through that boiling surf upon a rebel battery or an artillery company, would be a sad conclusion of the night's work; but even this must be risked, for it was not possible to obtain a single item of information in regard to the surroundings on shore.
"Oars!" shouted Somers, when he had completed his unsatisfactory survey shoreward, and there was not the slightest danger of his order being heard by an enemy beyond the thundering roll of the sea. "Hold water!"
The onward progress of the boat was stopped.
"Back the starboard, pull the port oars!" added the officer, who had now taken the management of the boat out of the hands of the coxswain. "Oars!" he continued, when the boat was turned so as to head directly from the shore.
"Now, my lads, pull steady, and mind the orders promptly," said the confident young officer. "There's a heavy surf; but if you pull strong, and mind quick, we shall be through it in a moment."