exceedingly discontented character, although the several captains were
doing their best to be polite to each other, whatever derogatory remarks
they might feel disposed to make concerning the craft which was carrying
Ned Crawford and his badly wounded patriotism.

Far away to the northwest, hidden by the darkness, the _Goshhawk_ was
all this while flying along, getting into greater safety with every knot
she was making, and Captain Kemp remarked to Ned:

"My boy, your father won't lose a cent, after all--not unless we find
Vera Cruz blockaded. But our danger isn't all over yet, and it's well
for us that we've slipped out of this part of it."

"Captain Kemp!" exclaimed Ned, "I believe father'd be willing to lose
something, rather than have the Mexicans get that ammunition."

"Very likely he would," laughed the captain, "but I'm an Englishman, and
I don't care. What's more, I'm like a great many Americans. Millions of
them believe that the Mexicans are in the right in this matter."

That was a thing which nobody could deny, and Ned was silenced so far as
the captain's sense of national duty was concerned.

Hundreds of miles to the westward, at that early hour of the evening,
far beyond the path of the storm which had been sweeping the eastern and
southern waters of the gulf, the American army, under General Taylor,
lay bivouacked. It was several miles nearer the besieged fort than it
had been in the morning, for this was the 8th of May. There had been
sharp fighting at intervals since the middle of the forenoon, beginning
at a place called Palo Alto, or "The Tall Trees," and the Mexicans had
been driven back with loss. Any cannonading at the fort could be heard
more plainly now, and it was certain that it had not yet surrendered.

Near the centre of the lines occupied by the Seventh Regiment, a young
officer sat upon the grass. He held in one hand a piece of army bread,
from which he now and then took a bite, but he was evidently absorbed in
thought. He took off his hat at last and stared out into the gloom.

"The Mexican army is out there somewhere," he remarked, slowly. "We are
likely to have another brush with them to-morrow. Well! this is real
war. I've seen my first battle, and I know just how a fellow feels under
fire. I wasn't at all sure how it would be, but I know now. He doesn't
feel first-rate, by any means. Those fellows that say they like it are
all humbugs. I've seen my first man killed by a cannon-bal