had about made up our minds that our ears had deceived us, when another
explosion, louder and nearer than the first, reached us.

On we rushed--toward what we knew not--through a fog so thick that the
water could be seen but dimly from the spar deck.

The suspense was hard to bear, and the desire to do something almost
irresistible. The men unconsciously took their regular stations for
action, the guns' crews gathered round their guns, the powder divisions
in the neighborhood of the ammunition hoists.

"I wish Potter was here," said "Stump." "I rather think he would be
white around the gills. This sort of business would give him a bad case
of 'cold feet.'"

"Oh, he had 'cold feet' a few days after we left New York, and wrote to
his friends to get his discharge," said "Bill." "Got it and quit two
weeks after we left New York, the duffer," added "Hay."

The "Yankee" still steamed on into the bank of fog.

"Cupid," the ship's bugler, began to play the call for general
quarters, but was stopped by a sharp command from the bridge.

What was it all about? Was it to be tragedy or farce?

Then Scully came down the starboard gangway, a broad smile on his ruddy
face.

A clamoring group gathered round him instantly. "What is it?" "Is the