rike two bells, Vincent!" he called to the quartermaster.

By this time the executive officer had beat the crew to quarters, and
every man was at his station.

"Strike three bells, Vincent," continued the commander. "Mr. Flint, open
fire upon the fort with the midship gun. Have the carpenter report at
once on the damage done by that shot. Strike two bells, Vincent."

It was plain enough to all the officers and men that the commander
knew what to do in the emergency, and every one was energetic in the
discharge of his duty. Mr. Ambleton was fully alive to the peril of the
moment, and he was careful to make his aim sure with the great gun. It
had been loaded before with a solid shot, and presently the steamer was
shaken to her keel by the concussion of its discharge.

Christy was still on the bridge, and he watched with intense interest
the effect of the shot. In a moment he saw the carriage of the only gun
that seemed to be mounted on the barbette flying in pieces in every
direction. He directed the gunner to use a shell next time; but the
soldiers had hastened away from the place, bearing with them two of
their companions, doubtless wounded by the splinters.

"Let go the anchor, Mr. Flint!" shouted Christy.

This was done under the direction of Mr. Camden. A fresh breeze had
sprung up from the north-west, and the Bronx came up to the cable still
headed in the direction of her former course. The carpenter reported
that the shot had passed out at the side between decks, and that he had
plugged the hole. The third lieutenant was busy rigging new wheel ropes,
which he said would be ready in half an hour. Mr. Flint, at the order
of the captain, had manned the broadside guns, and loaded them with
shrapnel, for the most perilous part of the enterprise was yet to come.

The fort was silent. It was evident now that the commander of the little
garrison had not left the barbette before till he had prepared at least
one of his guns for further service; but it had again been disabled, and
it was not known on board of the steamer whether or not he had any other
gun fit for use. It was presumed that he had not, for the Bronx was
within easy cannon shot of his works. Christy used the glass, but could
not discover any gun that appeared to be mounted.

"All ready, Mr. Flint," reported the third lieutenant, when he had
completed the repairs on the steering gear.

The first lieutenant inspected the work, and reported to the captain