All that could be done to protect the pilot-house had been
done, though it was not yet supposed to be proof against the musket ball
that would be fired in that direction. All the men not absolutely needed
for duty were sent below, but they were armed with revolvers and
cutlasses, ready for service at any instant. The officers retired from
the bridge, for it was folly for any one to be unnecessarily exposed to
the musketry fire from the loopholes of the fort.
"Strike one bell, Vincent!" said Mr. Flint, when the captain had given
him the order to go ahead.
The steamer went ahead slowly; but the steam was hissing, and she seemed
to be as impatient as a fiery horse at the slow starting.
"Four bells, Mr. Flint!" added the commander when the Bronx was fairly
under way.
The order went to the quartermaster, and the vessel began to dart ahead
as though she fully realized what was expected of her. There was nothing
to impede her progress, for the fort was as silent as though it had
ceased to exist. A trusty hand was heaving the lead in the fore-chains,
for the Bronx was not yet within musket-shot range of the island.
"Mark under water three!" shouted the leadsman, with an earnestness
inspired by the occasion.
Christy planked the deck with Mr.
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