CHAPTER XIX.

THE BOAT EXPEDITION.

At general quarters, on the following day, Somers looked somewhat care-worn. It was midnight when he had worked out the solution of the cipher, and at this hour he had been called to take the mid watch. But there was no happier or more exultant man in the fleet. His conquest over the cabalistic letter had confirmed his theory. The Ben Lomond was not a myth, and she was at Mobile. Pillgrim had expressed a desire to see Somers again, and there was a fair prospect that he might yet be able to do so.

The important event of this day was the dinner with "Brave Old Salt."

But the letter and the dinner seemed to be inseparably connected. Somers had given the translation to the first lieutenant, who, to the chagrin and mortification of the persevering student, did not appear to attach much importance to the letter.

"If the Tallapoosa, or Ben Lomond, is in the bay, we shall soon have her," said Mr. Hackleford, "for we are going to make the attack on the forts within a few days."

"The attack may fail, and thus afford an opportunity for the cruiser to come out," suggested Somers.

"Fail?"

The third lieutenant of the Chatauqua stood abashed before the look of his superior. He did not believe that any attack made by Admiral Farragut could fail, but it was possible for the Confederate steamer to run the blockade, as hundreds had done before her, especially as she could steam sixteen knots.

"I don't think the attack will fail, sir; but even a victory might afford the Ben Lomond a chance to run out."

"I don't think there is much chance; but Captain Cascabel has your solution of the letter under consideration. Perhaps the admiral may have something to say about it."

Somers was not satisfied with the reception given to his revelation. He had already formed a plan for ascertaining where the Ben Lomond was, but the cool manner in which his communication was received prevented him from even mentioning it.

In the afternoon, the captain's gig came up to the accommodation ladder, and the commander, attended by Somers, seated himself in the stern-sheets. Captain Cascabel was received with due honors on the quarter deck of the Hartford, where the gallant admiral was walking at the time.

When his superior had been welcomed with dignified cordiality, Captain Cascabel introduced Somers. The admiral bowed, smiled pleasantly, and did not look patronizingly upon the young officer, as he might have been pardoned for doing. As he stood there on the quarter deck of the flag-ship, he was full of genuine dignity and true manliness--a n.o.ble representative of the American naval commander. He was of medium stature, well formed, and of elegant proportions. He seemed to be made of nerves and muscles, and when he moved there was an elastic spring to his frame, which impressed the observer with the idea of energy and vigor. He did not appear to stand on the deck, but to be poised independently in the air, resting on the planks beneath him more because it was the fashion to do so, than because he had any need of such support.

Somers removed his cap, made his best bow, and blushed like a summer rose. He was deeply impressed by the glance of the admiral, and the atmosphere around him seemed to be full of the man at whom he gazed in reverent admiration.

"Mr. Somers, I am happy to see you," said the admiral, in a tone so gentle and affable that it seemed to remove the "curse" of greatness far from him. "I have heard of you before, and I doubt not we shall be able to make you very useful to your country."

"Thank you, sir," replied Somers, not daring to say any more, and with the feeling of his childhood, that "boys ought to be seen, not heard."

The admiral, with this judicious commendation, turned to Captain Cascabel, and opened conversation with him, evidently determined not to spoil the young man by taking too much notice of him. Somers was soon at home with the officers of the Hartford, and behaved himself with becoming modesty and discretion. He dined with the admiral, several other officers of distinction being present. The conversation at the table, singularly enough, it may appear to our readers, did not relate to the war, or even to the navy. These topics appeared to be carefully excluded, though the reserve on this occasion was probably accidental.

Somers found sufficient pleasure in looking at and listening to the admiral, and the other distinguished officers, though he was not ignored, being kindly encouraged, by an occasional question, to use his voice. But he was not forward, and his very nature prevented him from indulging in any of that impudent familiarity which is so offensive to elderly men, especially if they occupy high positions.

After dinner, a matter of business came up, and it soon appeared that Captain Cascabel had given the admiral all the particulars relating to the Ben Lomond, including the letter in cipher, which Somers had interpreted. The conversation took place in private, with only the three persons present who were most intimately concerned. The letter was exhibited, and its solution explained.

"Mr. Somers, what is your plan? I am informed that you have one," said the admiral.

"I have one, sir, but I hardly hope it will merit your approbation,"

replied the third lieutenant of the Chatauqua.

"We will hear it, if you please. By the way, our picket boats report that a steamer came down the bay this morning, and moored inside the Middle Ground. It may be the one mentioned in your letter--the Tallapoosa."

"Probably it is, sir. She can now only be waiting the arrival of Lieutenant Pillgrim, who is to command her."

"We must capture that man. State your plan, Mr. Somers."

The young officer, with no little trepidation, related the particulars of the method he had considered for the capture of the Ben Lomond.

"Very daring and impudent, Mr. Somers," said the admiral, as he glanced with a meaning smile at Captain Cascabel.

"Mr. Somers's _forte_ is daring and impudence. But his scheme, besides being based on mere theory, is absolutely fool-hardy," added the captain, throwing a whole bucket of cold water on the young officer's prospects.

"I do not wholly agree with you, captain. By the report of the picket boats, there is certainly a sea-going steamer in the bay. That, in a measure, confirms Mr. Somers's theory. Now, if the vessel is there, the young man may bring her out if he has the ability to do so."

"What force do you require, Mr. Somers?"

"The first cutter of the Chatauqua, and twenty-four men."

"You shall have them, Mr. Somers," said the admiral. "Instead of the first cutter, I suggest a whale-boat, which will not be much more than half as heavy."

"That would be better, sir," replied Somers, hardly able to conceal the joy and exultation he felt at the prospect of being permitted to carry out his plan.

"Captain, you will permit Mr. Somers to pick his men, and afford him every facility for the execution of his purpose."

"I will, with pleasure, sir."

"When do you wish to begin, Mr. Somers?" asked the admiral.

"To-night, sir."

"Very well. The monitors haven't arrived, captain, and it may be a fortnight before we make the attack on the forts. The steamer may run out in a fog or storm before that time, and I think we do well to prevent another Tuscaloosa from preying on the commerce of the country."

"Undoubtedly, sir, if we can."

"Mr. Somers's scheme may possibly succeed, though I do not think his chances of cutting out the steamer are very encouraging."

"I am afraid not, admiral," answered Captain Cascabel, incredulously.

"Mr. Somers, your reputation would be seriously damaged by the failure of your enterprise. Your officers would be more unwilling to trust you than they are now if you should meet with a disaster."

"I could not complain. I do not intend to meet with any disaster. If I do nothing better, I shall bring my men back with me."

The admiral laughed, and seemed to be pleased with this confidence, while Captain Cascabel shook his head.

"Mr. Somers, the risk is very great. You and your men may be prisoners in Fort Morgan within twenty-four hours. A failure would damage, if not ruin you. Are you still ready to undertake the work?" asked the admiral.

"I am, sir."

"Remember that everything depends upon yourself. My best wishes for your success go with you."

Somers needed no better inspiration, and his frame seemed to jerk and spring like that of Brave Old Salt, when he realized that he was actually to undertake his cherished purpose.