Just then the welcome sound of the firing of cannon to seaward reached their ears.
"It is the New York!" cried Clif. "She is taking a hand in the scrimmage!"
It was true. With deadly accuracy, the flagship was hurling shrapnel shell over the heads of the bluejackets into the battery on shore.
And thus between the two fires the little band in their frail boat continued coolly with their labors, Clif assisting those who became wounded wholly unmindful of the fact that he himself was bleeding freely.
But it was soon over. The terrible havoc of the well-directed shrapnel shot from the New York quickly silenced the masked battery and dispersed the gunners and the cutting of the cable received no further interruption from the Spanish forces.
They were enthusiastically received upon their return to the flagship, bearing a section of the cable to be cut up as souvenirs. The wounded were tenderly cared for, and Clif himself examined the nature of his own injury. Fortunately, though it had bled freely, it was but a slight flesh wound, which gave him no uneasiness after being properly bandaged.
This operation was just completed, when a jaunty young ensign appeared, and turning to Clif, said:
"Cadet Faraday, you are requested to report to the rear admiral at once."
Clif saluted and promptly followed the officer.