Her captain had no faith in the report industriously circulated that the Crimean coast and the Black Sea were impenetrably mined, so he proceeded gaily on his voyage, shaking hands with himself for having succeeded in running the gauntlet without a single man being hurt, or the breaking of a rope-yarn.  The crew were boisterously proud of the night’s exploit.  They knew that no pecuniary benefit would be derived by them, and were content to believe that they had been parties to a dashing piece of devil-may-care work.  The average British sailor of that period loved to be in a scrape, and revelled in the sport of doing any daring act to get out of it.  It never occurred to the captain that his crew might jib at the thought of undertaking so perilous a course.  He had been reared in the courage of the class to which he belonged, and his confidence in the loyalty of his men was not shaken by the thoughtless interjection of the chief officer, who, in a shameful moment asked him to turn back after the first shot was fired.  He had no time to think of that senseless advice when it was given, but it may be taken for granted the cautious mate did not add to his popularity with the crew.  He had commanded large sailing vessels in the Australian passenger trade, and this was his first voyage in steam.  The new life, with all its varied sensationalisms, was a mystery to him, and this little incident did not increase his belief in the wisdom of his change from sail to steam.  He explained that the thought of what he regarded as inevitable disaster caused him to spontaneously call out that they were firing.

“Besides,” he continued, “I don’t like the business; so I’ll resign my position and go back to sailing vessels again, on the completion of the voyage.”

The captain reminded him of the fine spirit of enterprise that prevailed amongst the crew; only in a lesser degree, perhaps, than that which caused Nelson under different circumstances to say of his sailors, “They really mind shot no more than peas.”

“Nelson may have said that, and our crew may have a fine spirit of wholesale daring, but I don’t like to be mixed up with either the enterprise or the shot,” retorted the reflective officer; and I daresay if the captain were asked for an opinion now he would be disposed to take the mate’s view.

The thought of being pursued kept up a quiet excitement.  The vessel was pressed through the water at her maximum speed and arrived at her first destination without any mishap to herself or the deck cargo, which was landed expeditiously.  She then continued on her voyage.  On arrival at the discharging port, a letter was received from the owners complimenting the captain on the success of an undertaking which would contribute so considerably to the profits of the voyage, and at the same time calling his attention to a newspaper cutting.  An official telegram to the English Press stated that “A British steamer, name unknown, in attempting to run out of ——­ harbour over the torpedo lines, was warned and fired upon by a Russian warship which was guarding the harbour.  The steamer refused to stop.  She was shelled, and in crossing the mine zone the vessel, with her crew, was blown to atoms!” This was a sensational piece of news to read of one’s self.