Phil wondered how the following gunboats were faring. The screech of shell was no longer heard near them, but the reverberations of discharges still smote upon their ears.
Then after what seemed hours of anxious waiting they emerged into the clear night. Filling their lungs with the pure air the lads gazed about them. The island, a mass of soaring flame, was behind them, and far away on the port quarter they could see the stirring spectacle of the monitors hotly engaging the forts. The city of Ku-Ling had been passed; the lights of the three anchored gunboats were indistinctly visible in the darkness.
“Where’s the launch?” Sydney exclaimed, gazing searchingly about him.
“She’s back to the ‘Albaque’ by this time,” Phil replied disappointedly. “If we could have only caught them red handed. That means that Ta-Ling and Ignacio have both been set free, for only they would set fire to the island.”
Inside of ten minutes, Captain Hughes’ voice hailed them:
“Let go the line. We are going to anchor.”
The line was quickly cast off and a moment later, the lads were on the deck of the gunboat, warmly congratulating their captain upon his well-earned success.
“Signal the monitors to join us and be ready to land their sailors,” the captain ordered the signal officer, then turning to Langdon, “We must take the chance from this side. Perhaps we shall find the bridge intact.”
The allied gunboats one after another dropped their anchors near the “Phœnix.” As they passed the American vessel the crews manned the rails with lusty cheers, which the “Phœnix’s” crew returned with a will.
“Here they come,” Sydney exclaimed in admiration as the two victorious and unharmed monitors steamed swiftly toward their flagship and anchored one on each quarter.