[Illustration:  “The gig was lowered”]

[Illustration:  “The men on the stages”]

So we were to go off again.  Where?

Within a short time we were under way again.  The usual watches were set, but very few of the boys went below.  The mere rumor that the enemy was prowling along the coast was enough to prevent sleep.  My watch went on duty at four o’clock.  We were not called in the usual way, by the boatswain’s whistle, but each man was roused separately.  This in itself was sufficient to lend an air of intense interest to the scene.

On reaching the deck I found that the night had grown stormy.  A chill wind was blowing off the coast, rendering pea coats and watch caps extremely comfortable.  A fine rain began to fall shortly after four, and by the time I had taken my post forward as a lookout it had increased to a regular squall.

The “Yankee” was a splendid sea boat, but in the course of an hour the choppy waves kicked up by the storm set her to bobbing about like the proverbial cork.  The gloom of the night had changed to a blackness that made it impossible to see an arm’s length away.  Standing on the starboard bridge, I could scarcely distinguish the faint white foam gathered under the forefoot.  Aft there was nothing visible save a length of stay which seemingly began at nothing and ended in darkness.

The howling of the wind through the taut cordage of the foremast, the sullen plunging of the ship’s hull in the trough of the sea, the rise to a wave crest and the poising there before falling once more, the smell of the dank salt air, and the occasional spurt of spray over the leaning bow, all made a scene so novel to me that I forgot Spanish ships and my duty and stood almost entranced.

It was a dereliction for which I was to suffer.  In the midst of my reverie a hand was suddenly placed upon my shoulder and I heard a familial voice exclaim sternly: 

“Lookout, what do you mean by sleeping on post?  Why did you not report that light?”

It was Captain Brownson!

Asleep on post!  The accusation was grave enough to startle me, and I lost no time in stammering a denial.  Luckily, the discovery of the strange light, which was just faintly visible dead ahead, occupied the commander’s attention for the moment and I escaped further rebuke.

Captain Brownson hurried to the bridge and presently word was passed to go to quarters at once.  The ports were opened, ammunition made ready for both the main and secondary batteries, and the crew stood at their guns in readiness for action.  It was a very impressive sight, the grim weapons just showing in the dim lantern light, the great cartridges standing close to the breeches, the men quiet and steady, their faces showing anxiety but perfect self-control.

I was proud to belong to such a crew, for the majority thought that an action was imminent, and perhaps a superior foe to be fought, yet there was no sign of that fear which is supposed to attack the novice in battle.  It was a convincing proof of American bravery and self-reliance.