Mr. Pennant did the best he could for his relief,
and the man said he was comfortable.
"Sail ahead!" shouted the bow oarsman, looking behind him.
"What is it, Gorman?" asked the lieutenant, standing up in his place.
"A steamer, sir," answered Gorman.
"I see her; it is the Bronx," added Mr. Pennant.
By this time it was broad daylight, and apparently the fog was not as
dense as it had been earlier in the morning. The boat with her tow
continued on her course, now headed for the gunboat which the officer
had made out. In ten minutes more the expedition was within hailing
distance of the steamer, which immediately stopped her screw.
The cutter came up at the gangway of the Bronx, and Christy was standing
on the rail, anxious to learn what the boat had accomplished. He had
heard the report of the volley fired at the cutter, and had been very
solicitous for the safety of her crew. He had weighed anchor as soon as
he heard the sounds, and proceeded in the direction from which they
came.
"I have to report the capture of the small sloop, the Magnolia, in tow,"
said the third lieutenant, touching his cap to the commander. "We have
eleven prisoners. Hilton is wounded, and I will send him on board first,
if you please."
"Do so," replied Christy.
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