perfection. The seven men, still
unhurt, were well aft, where Hobson joined them the moment he had
pressed the button; but now their troubles began. The dingy in which
they had hoped to escape had been shot to pieces, and they dared not
try to get their raft overboard, for the growing light would have
revealed their movements, and they would have been a target for every
gunner and rifleman within range. So they could only lie flat on deck
and wait for something to happen. A little after daybreak the ship
sank so low and with such a list that the raft slipped into the water
and floated of its own accord. On this all of them, including two had
been wounded by flying splinters, rolled overboard after it, caught
hold of the clumsy old float, and tried to swim it out to where Powell
could pick them up. They had only gained a few yards when a
steam-launch coming from the harbor bore down on them. Some marines in
the bow were about to open fire, when Hobson sang out, 'Is there any
officer on board that launch entitled to receive the surrender of
prisoners of war?'

"'Yes, senor, there is,' answered a voice, which also ordered the
marines not to fire, and I'll be blowed if Admiral Cervera himself
didn't stick his head out from under the awning. The old fellow was as
nice as pie to Hobson and his men, told them they had done a fine
thing, took them back to his ship, fed them, fitted them out with dry
clothing, and then sent Captain Oviedo, his chief of staff, out to the
_New York_, under a flag of truce, to report that the _Merrimac's_
crew, though prisoners, were alive and well. He also offered to carry
back any message or supplies the American Admiral might choose to send
them. Didn't every soul in that fleet yell when the signal of Hobson's
safety was made? Well, I should rather say we did. I only hope old
Cervera will fall into our hands some day, so that we can show him how
we appreciate his decency."

"Three cheers for the Spanish Admiral right now!" shouted Ridge, and
the yell that instantly rose from the deck of the _Yucatan_ in reply
was heard on shore for a mile inland.

The noise had barely subsided when a voice called for Sergeant Norris.

"Here I am. Who wants me?" replied Ridge, inquiringly.

"Take your belongings ashore, sir, and report back at camp
immediately," was the startling response, delivered in the form of an
order by Major Herman Dodley, who was now on the staff of the
commanding gene