The chase, completely disabled, drifted on the beach and grounded, under the guns of the battery. The Firefly now poured sh.e.l.l into her from every gun that could be brought to bear. In a few moments a sheet of flame rose from her, and lighted up the channel for miles around, clearly revealing to the gunners in the fort the exact position of Somers's vessel.

The work had been accomplished, the Ben Ledi had been destroyed, and the Firefly hastened to escape from her dangerous locality. In coming about she poured a parting broadside into the burning steamer. As she swung round, a hail from the water was heard, and a boat containing several men was discovered. It had been carried by the tide away from the beach.

The occupants were taken on board, though one of them was wounded and utterly helpless. They had no oars, and were in danger of being carried out to sea.

"Here's the cap'n; he was. .h.i.t by a piece of a sh.e.l.l," said one of the men.

"Who is he?" asked Somers.

"Cap'n Pillgrim."

The sufferer was taken down into the ward-room, and the surgeon began to examine him as the Firefly steamed down the channel under a shower of shot and sh.e.l.l from the battery.

"How is he?" asked the young commander, when the ship had pa.s.sed out of the reach of the guns of the fort.

"He is dead!" replied the surgeon.

"Dead! Good Heaven!" exclaimed Somers, impressed by the terrible retribution which had at last overtaken the traitor.

"Yes, sir; he died a few moments since. A fragment of a sh.e.l.l tore open his breast and penetrated his lungs," added the surgeon.

"That's the last of him," said Lieutenant Longstone. "He will lay no more plots."

"He has been a dangerous enemy to his country," continued Somers. "If he had succeeded in running in with that vessel, he would have obtained her armament, and made terrible havoc among the merchant ships on the coast.

He was a daring fellow; he was reckless at times. He told me on board of the Chatauqua that he had purchased three steamers in Scotland; this is the last one."

"Three Bens," added Tom. "Captain Somers, you have had a hand in capturing and destroying them all."

"I have; and it is really marvellous, when I think of it."

"I knew you would capture the Ben Ledi," continued the second lieutenant, exultingly.

"I did not capture her."

"It is the same thing."

"You will not find it so when your prize money is distributed."

"A fig for the prize money," replied Tom, contemptuously. "We destroyed her; and it's all the same thing. I would rather have had that villain hanged than killed by an honest sh.e.l.l; but there is no help for it now."

"Peace, Mr. Longstone; he is dead now. We have nothing more to do with him."

The body of Mr. Pillgrim was laid out in a proper place, and as the coal bunkers of the Firefly were nearly empty, she was headed for Port Royal, where she arrived on the afternoon of the following day. On the pa.s.sage, the men from the Ben Ledi, who had been picked up in the boat, were examined in regard to their knowledge of her ultimate use. One of the party was an intelligent English seaman, who acknowledged that he had shipped, for the Confederate navy, in the Sunny South, which was to be the new name of the Ben Ledi. She had waited a month at Halifax for orders. Langdon was not on board of her, and the seaman had no knowledge of any such person.

The Firefly had not been seen on board the Sunny South until both steamers were off Wilmington. After pa.s.sing Frying Pan Shoals, a shot from the Firefly had partially crippled her port wheel, which accident had caused her to lose ground rapidly. The projectile from the hundred pounder had completely shattered her stern, and disabled her rudder, and knocked the engine "all in a heap." The port quarter boat was torn to pieces by a sh.e.l.l, the same which had given Pillgrim his mortal wound.

The after tackle of the other quarter boat had been shot away, and when it was dropped into the water the oars were gone. Most of the crew had saved themselves by swimming ash.o.r.e. The Ben Ledi had a valuable cargo, which the informer declared was totally destroyed by fire or water.

On her arrival at Port Royal, the Firefly coaled without delay; the body of Pillgrim was buried, and after forwarding his despatches to the navy department by a supply steamer, Somers sailed again on another cruise after privateers, Confederate cruisers, and blockade runners. The Tallaha.s.see and the Chickamauga were supposed to be at Wilmington, but the Ol.u.s.tee was believed to be still afloat. Of this cruise our limits do not permit us to record details; but the Firefly captured a valuable steamer in December, and sent her into port. This was the only prize she obtained; and being short of coal, she ran into Boston, on New Year's day, where her prize had arrived before her.

Somers immediately forwarded his despatches, and awaited the orders of the department. Of course he hastened down to Pinchbrook as soon as he could leave the ship, where he was heartily welcomed and warmly congratulated upon his successful cruise.

"Here's something for you, John," said Mrs. Somers, taking a daintily made up letter from the mantel-piece, when the welcome had been given, kisses bestowed, and hands shaken. "It has been here a fortnight."

Somers knew the handwriting, for it had often gladdened his heart before, and a flush came to his cheeks as he tore open the envelope. It was from Kate Portington, whom the young commander had not failed to think of every day during his absence, though it was with pain and sorrow at the rupture which had separated them. The letter healed his only wound.

"I shall never forgive myself," she wrote, "for my harsh treatment of you; and I am afraid you can never forgive me. I have seen Mr.

Hackleford, who says that he _ordered_ you to sign that horrible paper.

Why didn't you tell me so, John?" He would have told her so, if she had given him an opportunity. But she was repentant, and Somers was rejoiced.

The letter was four pages in length, and among all the pleasant things it contained, the pleasantest was that she was spending a month in Boston, at the residence of a friend, where she hoped to see him.

She did see him there, on the very day he received the letter. What pa.s.sed between them we are not at liberty to say in a book of this kind, except to inform the reader that Kate was herself again; that in the joy of meeting him after this painful rupture, she actually forgot to be proper, and in spite of her promise, and her mother's lecture, she called him "prodigy." The past, the present, and the future, were discussed, and Somers went on board the Firefly the happiest of mortals.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

THE END OF THE REBELLION.

The Firefly, with her energetic young commander, was too serviceable to be permitted long to remain in idleness, and she was ordered to join Admiral Porter's squadron, which had failed to capture Fort Fisher in December; or rather, the military portion of the expedition had failed to do it, for the navy had done its part of the work to the satisfaction of the nation.

Somers sailed again, and in due time reported to the admiral, who was then waiting for the army, in order to make the second attack. A tremendous gale delayed the expedition; but on the 13th of January, the bombardment of Fort Fisher was commenced, and the military force was landed on Federal Point. A detachment of sailors from the Firefly, under the command of Lieutenant Longstone, was sent on sh.o.r.e to join the naval brigade, and the steamer was variously employed during the action, rendering valuable aid with her hundred pounder, as well as performing various duties, for which her great speed and light draught peculiarly fitted her. The zeal and energy of Somers were warmly commended, though he had no opportunity to render any signal service in the attack.

Fort Fisher fell this time; every man and every ship was faithful; and though some were distinguished by gallant exploits, the victory was the result of the steadiness of the whole line, rather than of the brilliant deeds of the few. The last maritime stronghold of the rebellion was reduced, and the sinking Confederacy was shut in from all material support from abroad. Its days were numbered, and many of its most rabid supporters were now crying out for peace.

The flag of the Union floated over Fort Fisher, and the great fleet before its shattered ramparts celebrated the victory with clouds of gay flags, with flights of rockets, and with salvos of artillery. It was a glorious day for that expedition. Admiral Porter and General Terry won a glorious fame and an unfading name upon the annals of their country.

Gallant old Tom Longstone was wounded in the arm in an attempt to rally the sailors when they broke under the most terrible fire that mortal men ever breasted. Lieutenant Longstone did all that any officer could do, but the whole garrison seemed to be gathered at the point where the naval a.s.sault was made. The sailors were repulsed and driven back. They had never been disciplined to this kind of work; yet they fought like tigers, hand to hand oftentimes, with the foe; and though they were forced back, even while the American flag was floating over the other side of the works, it was no disgrace to them. Tom stood by to the last, though he was severely wounded, and finally had the satisfaction of beholding a complete triumph. The soldiers did wonders on that day--the sailors hardly less.

With other vessels of light draught the Firefly went up the river, fishing up torpedoes, transporting soldiers, and hammering down rebel batteries, and continued upon this duty until General Terry marched into the deserted city of Wilmington, and raised the national flag where the emblem of treason had insulted the free air for four long years.

The Firefly was ordered to the James River, in the vicinity of which the last groan of the expiring monster of Rebellion was soon to be heard; and on the 20th of March she was on her winding way up the stream. In the mean time Charleston had fallen; negro troops patrolled her streets, and the people of this foul nest of secession were suffering the agonies of actual subjugation. Sherman, with his grand army, was "marching on"

in his resistless course, with hardly a foe to impede his exultant march. Columbia, the proud capital of arrogant South Carolina, yielded, and the people repented their folly in the ashes of the burning city.

Johnston was retreating before his invincible conqueror, and the whole military power of the rebellion east of Mississippi was concentrated within an area of not more than a hundred and fifty miles.

The movements of General Grant before Petersburg commenced; and his great army, now animated by the sure prestige of victory, was hurled against the rebel lines. The shock was tremendous; the whole world seemed to be shaken by it, for it was the onslaught of freedom, striking its last terrible blow at the legions of slavery.

The fleet on the James was busily employed in fishing up torpedoes, in guarding the pontoons across the river, and in "neutralizing" the enemy's iron-clads which lay above the obstructions. The Firefly found abundant occupation, though there was no opportunity for brilliant and startling achievements; but she bore her full share in the hard work and disagreeable drudgery of the occasion.

Tom Longstone had entirely recovered from his wound; and being a practical man himself, he was the life of every working party sent out from the ship. The old man was an immense favorite with the sailors; for, unlike many who have risen from a low position to a high, he was kind and considerate, while he exacted the full measure of duty from all. He was no tyrant, and had a heart for every man, whatever his degree.

"Well, Mr. Longstone, we have got almost to the end of the rebellion,"

said Captain Somers, on one of those last days of March, when the roar from beyond Petersburg was heavier than usual.

"No doubt of that, captain," replied Tom. "I shall be a boatswain again before long."

"Do you dread the time?"