t the enemy were postponed, and the gunboats, withdrawing also,
came to anchor for the night.

During the day, several of the armed steamers, which had served as
transports, prepared to cooperate with the naval squadron in their true
character as gunboats; the troops on board of them being distributed
among other vessels of the coast division. Among the steamers thus
cleared was the schooner's consort; and thus it happened that Mr. Sinjin
returned to his old quarters, to the great joy of the drummer boy, whose
heart burned within him at the thought of meeting his old friend once
more, after their unhappy parting.

They met, indeed; but the schooner was now so crowded, and such was the
stir on board, that Frank scarce found an opportunity to offer the
veteran his hand, and get one look out of those serious gray eyes.

The drummers being assembled, the surgeon came to them, and gave each a
strip of red flannel to tie on his arm as a token, at the same time
informing them that, when the troops landed, they were to go with him and
help carry the wounded.

"This begins to look like serious business, my boy," said the old
drummer, kindly, as he stooped to assist Frank in tying on his badge.

His touch was very gentle. Frank's breast began to swell. But before he
could speak the old man had disappeared in the crowd.

"He don't know yet that I know he gave me the watch," thought the boy,
"and he wouldn't look and see that I have it again."

Then he regarded the red token on his arm, and remembered that they all
had other things to think of now.

Picket-boats were out in advance all night, at the entrance to Croatan
Sound, in the darkness and fog, keeping watch for the enemy. No enemy
appeared. Towards morning, however, the fog lifting, two rebel steamers
were seen hastily taking to their heels, having come down in the
obscurity to see what they could see.

It was Friday, the 7th of February. The morning was beautiful; the
sunrise came in clouds of glory; there was as yet no taint of battle in
the purity of the air. It was a lovely day for a sea fight. Frank climbed
into the rigging to observe.

At ten o'clock Goldsborough's gunboats could be seen making their way,
one by one, cautiously, through the narrow channel between marshy islands
into Croatan Sound. There were nineteen of them. The gunboats of the
coast division followed, six in number. The S. R. Spaulding, to which
Burnside had transferred his flag, next went