is
duty. "Is he an old man?"

"No, sir; I don't believe he is over twenty, if he is that," replied the
third lieutenant.

Another solid shot sped on its way, and Mr. Ambleton, the gunner, fully
justified the reputation he had earned, though the missile only ploughed
up the earth in front of the party on the fort. But then Lieutenant
Fourchon proved that he was a wise and a prudent man, as well as a brave
one, for he retreated from the exposed position with his men. It was
almost sure death for them to remain there, for they could not help
seeing the cloud of smoke that rose from the funnel of the Bronx,
indicating her intention to go up the Pass.

"Mr. Sampson directs me to report that he is ready to proceed," said a
messenger from the chief engineer.

Quartermaster Vincent was placed in charge of the wheel, with Boxie as
helmsman. All that could be done to protect the pilot-house had been
done, though it was not yet supposed to be proof against the musket ball
that would be fired in that direction. All the men not absolutely needed
for duty were sent below, but they were armed with revolvers and
cutlasses, ready for service at any instant. The officers retired from
the bridge, for it was folly for any one to be unnecessarily exposed to
the musketry fire from the loopholes of the fort.

"Strike one bell, Vincent!" said Mr. Flint, when the captain had given
him the order to go ahead.

The steamer went ahead slowly; but the steam was hissing, and she seemed
to be as impatient as a fiery horse at the slow starting.

"Four bells, Mr. Flint!" added the commander when the Bronx was fairly
under way.

The order went to the quartermaster, and the vessel began to dart ahead
as though she fully realized what was expected of her. There was nothing
to impede her progress, for the fort was as silent as though it had
ceased to exist. A trusty hand was heaving the lead in the fore-chains,
for the Bronx was not yet within musket-shot range of the island.

"Mark under water three!" shouted the leadsman, with an earnestness
inspired by the occasion.

Christy planked the deck with Mr. Flint just abaft the foremast. Both of
them were as cool and self-possessed as though they had been sitting at
the cabin-table; but neither of them felt that the battle had been won,
for the officer in command of the fort was evidently a man of ability,
who had not yet exhausted his resources. The first lieutenant had
watched the works very clos