With this he took his leave. And Frank crept into his bunk, and turned away his face, before he dared to open and read his mother's letter.

In that letter there were no reproofs for his misconduct. But in place of such his mother had written the simple story of Hattie's death, with many affecting little details, showing her thoughtful tenderness for all, her cheerful sweetness, and her love for Frank. Then followed affectionate messages from them at home, who were very lonely now, and longed to have him with them--all which had a power beyond any reproaches to win the boy back to that purity of heart and life which belonged to his home-affections, and was safe when they were strong, and was imperilled when they were forgotten.

"O, to think," he said to himself, "only this morning I was imagining how it looked at home to-day--and it is all so different! I am gone, and now Hattie is gone too!"

XXI.

UP THE SOUND.

So pa.s.sed that Sunday, memorable to the expedition; for it ushered in the battle-week.

Besides the transports and store-ships belonging to the coast division, a squadron of United States gunboats, under command of Commodore Goldsborough, had rendezvoused at the inlet. These were to take care of the rebel fleet, attend to the sh.o.r.e batteries, and prepare the way for the operation of the land forces.

All the vessels destined to take part in the advance were now over the bulkhead, in Pamlico Sound. On Monday, the sailing vessels were hauled into position, each astern of its steam-consort, by which it was to be towed. Sixty-five vessels of various cla.s.ses were to partic.i.p.ate in the movement; while upwards of fifty were to remain behind at the inlet, holding in reserve sixty days' supply of stores for the entire expedition.

The stay at the inlet had occasionally been enlivened by the arrival of refugees, white and black, from the coast of North Carolina. Some of these were citizens escaped from the persecutions meted out by the rebels to all who still remained loyal to the old flag. Some were deserters from the confederate army, in which they had been compelled to serve. Others were slaves fleeing from bondage to freedom.

Again, on Monday, a sail-boat hove in sight, and, being overhauled by one of the gunboats, proved to be loaded with these fugitives. They were mostly negroes; two of whom were bright, intelligent boys, who gave such evidence of joy at their escape, of loyalty to the Union, and of a thorough knowledge of the country, that Flag-officer Goldsborough retained them for the information they might be able to give, while the rest were sent ash.o.r.e.

And now, general orders were read to the troops, announcing to them that they were soon to land on the coast of North Carolina, and reminding them that they were there, not to pillage or destroy private property, but to subdue the rebellion, and to maintain the Const.i.tution and the laws.

Monday and Tuesday were occupied with preparations. But early Wednesday morning--more than three weeks after the arrival of the expedition at the inlet--the signals to weigh anchor and set sail were given.

Commodore Goldsborough's gunboat took the lead. Other vessels of the naval squadron followed. Then came the transports--a goodly spectacle.

"''Twere wuth ten years of peaceful life, one glance at our array,'"

observed the poetical Tucket.

Each brigade formed three columns of steamers and sailing vessels in tow; and brigade followed brigade. The shallow water of the sound was scarcely ruffled by a breeze. It lay like a field of silver before the furrows of the fleet. The tall, taper masts of the schooners pointed like needles to the sky under which they moved. The aisles between the three columns of ships were unbroken through the whole length of the fleet, which extended for two miles over the surface of the sound, and advanced with such slow and uniform motion, each vessel keeping its position, that now all seemed moving as one, and again all seemed at rest, with the waters of the sound flowing past their steady keels.

As yet, the destination of the fleet was unknown. As it proceeded at first southward and westward, the rumor grew that Newbern was to be attacked. But it was only the course of the channel which thus far shaped its course; and after a few zigzag turns, the cause of which was inexplicable to the green ones, ignorant of the shoals, it began to steer due north. Then all doubts with regard to its destination vanished.

"Roanoke Island, boys! Roanoke Island!" was echoed from mouth to mouth on board the schooner.

The day was beautiful--only a light breeze blowing, and a few light clouds floating in the blue ether. And now the vessels at the inlet began to sink below the horizon; first, the hulls, then the decks disappeared; and lastly, spars and rigging went down behind the curve of the sphere, and were visible no more to the clearest gla.s.s.

At the same time emerged in the west the main land of North Carolina. At first, tall cypresses rose to view, growing as it were "out of a mirror."

Then appeared the long swampy sh.o.r.es, lying dim and low, with here and there a miserable fish-house, the sole trace of human habitation.

At sundown the fleet was within ten miles of Roanoke Island. The signal from the flag-ship was given, at which the vessels of each brigade drew together, the clank of running-out chains sounded along the lines, the anchors plashed, and the fleet was moored for the night.

As yet there were no signs of rebels. What the morrow, what the night, might bring forth was all uncertainty. The night set in dark enough. But soon the sky cleared, the moon came out resplendent, and the stars looked down from their far eternal calm upon the evanescent shows of mortal conflict--the batteries of the rebellion yonder, and here the fleet, no more than the tiniest sh.e.l.ls to those distant, serene, awful eyes of Deity. And Frank looked up at the stars; and the spirit within him said, "They will shine the same to-morrow night, and the next night, and forever; and whether there is war or peace, whether victory comes or defeat, and whether thou, child, art living or art dead, they know not, they change not, neither do they rejoice or mourn." And the thought sank deep into the heart of the boy as he retired to his bed, and closed his eyes to sleep.

A sharp lookout was kept for the rebel gunboats all night, but they never made their appearance. The next morning the weather was heavy--promising rain. At eight o'clock, however, the signal to weigh anchor--the Union Jack at the foremast, and the American flag at the stern--was telegraphed from the flag-ship, and repeated by the flag-ship of each brigade. Again the fleet got in motion, approaching the entrance to Croatan Sound. The water was shoal, and progress was slow, and soon it came on to rain. It was a dismal day; rain on the decks, rain on the water, rain on the marshy sh.o.r.es of the main land, and over the forests beyond, where the ghosts of blasted trees stretched their naked arms despairingly to the dripping clouds. And now a low swampy point of Roanoke Island pushes out into the dim water, under a veil of rain.

At about noon, most of the vessels came to anchor. But some of the gunboats advanced to the entrance of Croatan Sound, and reconnoitred. The rebel fleet was discovered, drawn up in line of battle on the west side of the island, awaiting the conflict. A fog coming on, active operations against the enemy were postponed, and the gunboats, withdrawing also, came to anchor for the night.

During the day, several of the armed steamers, which had served as transports, prepared to cooperate with the naval squadron in their true character as gunboats; the troops on board of them being distributed among other vessels of the coast division. Among the steamers thus cleared was the schooner's consort; and thus it happened that Mr. Sinjin returned to his old quarters, to the great joy of the drummer boy, whose heart burned within him at the thought of meeting his old friend once more, after their unhappy parting.

They met, indeed; but the schooner was now so crowded, and such was the stir on board, that Frank scarce found an opportunity to offer the veteran his hand, and get one look out of those serious gray eyes.

The drummers being a.s.sembled, the surgeon came to them, and gave each a strip of red flannel to tie on his arm as a token, at the same time informing them that, when the troops landed, they were to go with him and help carry the wounded.

"This begins to look like serious business, my boy," said the old drummer, kindly, as he stooped to a.s.sist Frank in tying on his badge.

His touch was very gentle. Frank's breast began to swell. But before he could speak the old man had disappeared in the crowd.

"He don't know yet that I know he gave me the watch," thought the boy, "and he wouldn't look and see that I have it again."

Then he regarded the red token on his arm, and remembered that they all had other things to think of now.

Picket-boats were out in advance all night, at the entrance to Croatan Sound, in the darkness and fog, keeping watch for the enemy. No enemy appeared. Towards morning, however, the fog lifting, two rebel steamers were seen hastily taking to their heels, having come down in the obscurity to see what they could see.

It was Friday, the 7th of February. The morning was beautiful; the sunrise came in clouds of glory; there was as yet no taint of battle in the purity of the air. It was a lovely day for a sea fight. Frank climbed into the rigging to observe.

At ten o'clock Goldsborough's gunboats could be seen making their way, one by one, cautiously, through the narrow channel between marshy islands into Croatan Sound. There were nineteen of them. The gunboats of the coast division followed, six in number. The S. R. Spaulding, to which Burnside had transferred his flag, next went in, making signals for the transports to follow.

Far off a gun was heard. It was only a signal fired by a rebel steamer to announce the approach of the squadron; but it thrilled the hearts of the troops waiting to go into battle.

An hour later another cannon boomed, nearer and louder. It was a shot tossed from the commodore's flag-ship at the rebels, who promptly responded.

The flag-ship now hoisted the signal,--

"THIS DAY OUR COUNTRY EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY."

From ship to ship, from man to man, from heart to heart, thrilled the electric message. It was greeted by cheers and the thunder of guns. This was at half past eleven o'clock.

XXII.

THE ATTACK OF THE GUNBOATS.

The spars of the transports were beginning to be thronged. Corporal Gray brought up a gla.s.s to Frank.

"O, good!" cried Frank. "Is it yours?"

"No; it belongs to Mr. Sinjin."

"Did he send it to me?"

"Not he! But he had been casting that sharp eye of his up at you, and I knew what he meant when he said, 'Corporal, there's a good lookout from the masthead, if you'd like to take a gla.s.s up there."