ers. I told them to tie up all they had in as small
a parcel as they could, and bring them to me.

Accordingly, the next day, I found a handsome brown paper parcel, not so
very large, considering, and strangely square, considering, which the
minxes had put together and left on my office table. They had a great
frolic over it. They had not spared red tape nor red wax. Very official
it looked, indeed, and on the left-hand corner, in Sarah's boldest and
most contorted hand, was written, "Secret service." We had a great laugh
over their success. And, indeed, I should have taken it with me the next
time I went down to the Tredegar, but that I happened to dine one
evening with young Norton of our gallant little navy, and a very curious
thing he told us.

We were talking about the disappointment of the combined land attack. I
did not tell what upset poor Schaff's horse; indeed, I do not think
those navy men knew the details of the disappointment. O'Brien had told
me, in confidence, what I have written down probably for the first time
now. But we were speaking, in a general way, of the disappointment.
Norton finished his cigar rather thoughtfully, and then said: "Well,
fellows, it is not worth while to put in the newspapers, but what do
you suppose upset our grand naval attack, the day the Yankee gunboats
skittled down the river so handsomely?"

"Why," said Allen, who is Norton's best-beloved friend, "they say that
you ran away from them as fast as they did from you."

"Do they?" said Norton, grimly. "If you say that, I'll break your head
for you. Seriously, men," continued he, "that was a most extraordinary
thing. You know I was on the Ram. But why she stopped when she stopped I
knew as little as this wineglass does; and Callender himself knew no
more than I. We had not been hit. We were all right as a trivet for all
we knew, when, skree! she began blowing off steam, and we stopped dead,
and began to drift down under those batteries. Callender had to
telegraph to the little Mosquito, or whatever Walter called his boat,
and the spunky little thing ran down and got us out of the scrape.
Walter did it right well; if he had had a monitor under him he could not
have done better. Of course we all rushed to the engine-room. What in
thunder were they at there? All they knew was they could get no water
into her boiler.

"Now, fellows, this is the end of the story. As soon as the boilers
cooled off they worked all right on those su