ry seamen who had driven her steadily on since leaving the wharf.

The night was calm and very still. The hatch covers were thrown back,
the tired men thrust their heads into the cool, sweet air, so
refreshing after the closeness of their badly ventilated vessel, and
wetted their fevered, exhausted bodies with the stimulating water of
the bay. The artillery officer took advantage of the opportunity to
make a careful reexamination of the torpedo, and Lacy was greatly
relieved when he reported that he had everything in good working order,
so far as he was able to judge. The young commander of the expedition
was the more anxious for success because of the previous failures of
similar endeavors. After a ten-minute rest he gave the order to get
under way.

"Men," he said coolly, "you know the history of this boat. There's a
chance, ay, more than a chance, that none of us will ever come back
from this expedition. You knew all that when you volunteered. If we do
get out alive, our country will reward us. If we do not, she will not
forget us. Shake hands, now. Good-by, and God bless you. Put every
pound of muscle you have into that crank when we get within one hundred
yards of the frigate, and jump the boat into her. I'll give the signal.
I want to strike her hard."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the seamen as cheerfully as if there was only a
frolic before them. "We'll do our best. Good-by, and God bless you,
sir. We're proud to serve under you whatever comes."

"Thank you. All ready with the torpedo, Captain?"

"Yes, Major Lacy."

"Good! Down everybody, now! Clap to the hatch covers and start the
cranks. Easy at first, and when I give the word--hard!"

He seized the spokes of the steering wheel in his steady hands as he
spoke. Back of him, to relieve him in case of accident, stood Captain
Carlson, the artillery officer. The heavy planks were drawn over the
open hatch, locked, and bolted. Silently the men manned the cranks. The
little engine of destruction gathered way. It was pitch dark, and very
close and hot. There was no sound in the shell save the slight creaking
of the cranks and the deep breathing of the crew as they toiled over
them.

Forward by the wheel there was a glass hood, which permitted the men
who steered to direct the course of the boat. As the sinister sea demon
stole through the waters, Lacy caught a sudden glimpse at last of the
spars of a heavy ship at anchor before him. The night had cleared
somewhat,