Within The Enemy's Lines

by Oliver Optic

"Then I don't think we shall have much trouble in getting out of the bay," added Christy, as he went to the pilot-house, attended by Dave.

Since the lieutenant had declared as unequivocally as he desired who and what he was, the steward did all he could to assist his new master. He had served Captain Folkner for two months, for he said the commander had lived on board all this time, and he had heard everything that passed between him and his officers and others with whom he had relations. He was about as well informed as though he had been an officer of the vessel in whom the captain confided all his affairs. He did not wait to have his knowledge dragged out of him, but he volunteered such information as he saw that the occasion required.

He was a mulatto, and had plenty of good blood in his veins, though it was corrupted with that of the hated race. He appeared to be about forty years of age, and his knowledge of the affairs of the locality could hardly have been better if he had been a white man, with a quick perception, a reasoning intellect, and a retentive memory. It was the rule with Union officers, soldiers, and sailors to trust the negroes, making proper allowance for their general ignorance and stupidity, and for particular circumstances. But some of them, even many of them, were brighter than might be expected from their situation and antecedents.

The binnacle from the whaleboat had been brought into the pilot-house, and Christy compared it with the compass in the Teaser's apparatus, after Dave had lighted it. There was no disagreement, and as the tide was still coming in, the head of the steamer was pointed to the westward, which would be her first course down the bay.

The lieutenant felt that everything depended upon the working of the steamer, and he was a total stranger to her peculiarities, if she had any, as most vessels have. Taking Beeks with him, he began at the stem and followed the rail entirely around the steamer, feeling with a boat-hook along the sides. Sundry ropes, fenders, and pieces of lumber were dislodged, and everything put in order about the main deck. Then he visited the engine-room, and learned from Sampson that he had a full head of steam. This careful inspection completed, he ordered the quartermaster to cast off the fast at the buoy.

Taking his place in the pilot-house with Beeks, he rang the bell to go ahead. The Teaser started on quite a different voyage from what she had been intended for. Christy had studied up his courses and distances, and had imprinted the chart of the lower part of the bay on his brain. For the first part of the run, there was no obstacle, and no difficulty in regard to the course.

The fog and the darkness were so dense that not a thing could be seen in any direction; but he rang for full speed as soon as the Teaser was under way. A leadsman had been stationed on each side of the forecastle, though there was no present occasion for their services. Christy thought everything was going extremely well, and he was reasonably confident that he should succeed in his plan.

"Steamer, ahoy!" shouted a voice, coming out of the dense fog.

"That must be the patrol boat," said Dave, in a low tone.

Christy could not make any reply that would be satisfactory to the patrol, and he decided not to answer the hail. He had rather expected to be challenged in this way.