“A white flag!” Phil gasped, a tinge of disappointment in his voice, as he saw the banner of submission mount the flagpole quickly. Now all was over, and he had seen but one shot fired.
“Cease firing!” Commander Hughes hastily ordered, fearing that the next shot might, with the white flag displayed on the forts, cause the Chinese to think that the monitor had intentionally disregarded the sanctity of the emblem, thus precipitating an engagement with the forts which the American officer was only too glad to avoid.
The bugles sounded the retreat from firing, and disappointed faces soon appeared from the turrets, to gaze out upon the unwelcome white flag flaunting in the light morning breeze.
“Follow us,” had been the signal to the “Monadnock,” and the two victorious vessels, in column, made a graceful turn and then steamed up stream toward the renegade gunboats anchored off Ku-Ling.
“What does it mean?” Phil breathed excitedly to Langdon.
“Something has happened,” Langdon exclaimed, shaking his head in mystery.
“The viceroy’s now going to send a flag of truce to us,” Sydney suggested; “and I hope Ta-Ling comes with it. I’d certainly like to see Phil hand him back the pigtail he borrowed.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation all laughed at the thought of the discomfited Chinaman without his cue.
The ships were now passing close to the “Albaque”; the sailors of that gunboat watched the American monitors in sullen silence. The midshipmen looked in vain for Commander Ignacio; he was not on deck.
“She’s ready to get under way,” Phil exclaimed, pointing to that vessel. “See! her anchor gear is rove off and her steam launch has been hoisted inboard.” Sure signs indeed that the gunboat was ready to move.