A midshipman—it was Dumpling—came down. "They've fired that gun again, sir," he said, grinned at me, and disappeared.
"They are still holding out, Doc. What can we do?"
"This is a matter of life or death, not only of strategy and tactics," said Dr. Fox suddenly. "One thing must be done—done at once, too—and you know what that is."
"Yes, yes. I must draw off their attention from Cummins by attacking those forts; a terrible risk, but it must be taken." His face became quite calm and happy again, and he rang the sentry bell.
"Send the First Lieutenant to me."
The First Lieutenant came running down.
"I am going to attack those forts at once. Signal to the Strong Arm to support me, and to Parker and Lang to close and await orders."
"Very good, sir," said the First Lieutenant and vanished with a joyful smile.
Picking up his telescope, the Captain went on deck, and Dr. Fox began taking off what was left of my monkey-jacket and examining my body. I heard the buglers sounding out for General Quarters, and heard the stamping of the men as they rushed cheering to their stations.
"Look at yourself, boy," said Dr. Fox, standing me on a chair, and I saw myself in the sideboard glass. I had no cap, my face was scratched all over, my flannel shirt was all covered with blood and was almost torn in half, one trouser leg had a great tear in it, and there was more blood on that, but the sea on board the destroyer had washed most of it away. I was sopping wet, and one boot had gone too.