CHAPTER X  - The Confederate Steamer Scotian


"On the bridge, sir!" called the man on the foreyard.

"Aloft!"

"I make her out now; she has the Confederate flag at the peak."

"All right!" exclaimed Christy to himself, though he spoke out loud.
The steamer had set her colors, and there was no longer any doubt in regard to her character. The flag also indicated that she was not a blockade runner in the ordinary sense of the word, but a Confederate man-of-war. Warnock reported that she had taken her armament on board from another vessel at some point south of England, and the colors also assured Christy that the steamer was one of the pair expected.
Still the Bronx went ahead at full speed, and presently a gun was heard from the direction in which she lay, though the captain was unable to decide what it meant. It might be a signal of distress, but the man on the yard had not reported the colors as union down, and it might be simply a defiance. It was probable that the Scotian and Arran had put in at St. George, and it was more than possible that they had shipped a reinforcement to her reported small crew.

"Aloft!" called the captain again.

"On the bridge, sir!" replied the lookout.

"Is the steamer under way?"

"I think not, sir, but I can’t make out her wake, it is so low."

"Starboard a little, quartermaster."

"Starboard, sir."

Christy heard, or thought he heard, for he was not sure about it, the sound of a bell. A minute later the quartermaster in the pilothouse struck seven bells, which was repeated on the topgallant forecastle of the Bronx, and he was confident this was what he had heard on board of the stranger.

"Quartermaster, strike one bell," he added.

"One bell, sir," and the gong resounded from the engine room, and the speed of the Bronx was immediately reduced.

A minute later Christy obtained a full view of the steamer. She was headed to the southwest, and her propeller was not in motion. As the lookout had reported, she was the counterpart of the Bronx, though she was a larger vessel. He gave some further orders to the quartermaster at the wheel, for he had decided to board the steamer on her port side. The boarders had been concealed in proper places under this arrangement, and the captain had directed the course of the Bronx so that a shot from her could hardly do any harm, if she took it into her head to fire one.

"Arran, ahoy!" shouted a hoarse voice through a speaking trumpet from the steamer.

"On board the Scotian!" replied Christy through his trumpet.

After the vessel had hailed the Arran, the captain had no difficulty in deciding that the other craft was the Scotian, and he was especially glad that the officer of that vessel had hailed him in this particular form. The single word spoken through that trumpet was the key to the entire enigma. Every possible doubt was removed by it. He was now assured, as he had not been before, that he had fallen in with one of the two vessels of which his father had given him information, and which his sealed orders required him to seek, even if he was detained a week or more. Christy spent no time in congratulating himself on the situation, but the tremendous idea passed through his whole being in an instant.

"We are disabled!" shouted the officer on board of the Scotian through his trumpet. "Please send your engineer on board."

"All right!" replied Christy. "Go ahead a little faster, Mr. Sampson. We are very near the steamer."

The young commander cast his eyes over the deck of his vessel to assure himself that everything was ready for the important moment, though the situation did not indicate that a very sharp battle was to be fought. Everything was in order, and the first lieutenant was planking the deck, looking as though he felt quite at home, for he was as cool as a Jersey cucumber. Farther aft was Lillyworth, as uneasy as a caged tiger, for no doubt he realized that the Scotian was to fall a victim to the circumstances that beset her, rather than as the result of a spirited chase or a sharply fought battle. He looked about him for a moment, and the instant he turned his head, Mulgrum came out from behind the mast and passed quite near him.

The captain could not tell whether the second lieutenant had spoken to the deaf mute or not, but the latter hastened to the engine hatch and descended to the engine room. The Bronx was within less than a cable’s length of the Scotian, whose name could now be read on her stern, when Mulgrum, apparently ordered by Lillyworth to do so, had hastened to the engine hatch. Even on the bridge the noise of a scuffle could be heard in the engine room, and the captain was sure that Sampson had been obedient to his orders. Another minute or two would determine in what manner the Scotian was to be captured, and Christy hastened down the ladder to the deck.

As soon as his foot pressed the planks, he hastened to the engine hatch. Calling to the engineer, he learned that the deaf mute had been knocked senseless by Sampson, and lay on the sofa. He waited to hear no more, but went forward where there were bell pulls on the deck and rang two bells to stop her. Then he gave some orders to the quartermaster and rang three bells to back her. The Bronx came alongside of the Scotian as handsomely as though she had been a river steamer making one of her usual landings. The hands who had been stationed for the purpose immediately used their grappling irons, and the two vessels were fast to each other.

"Boarders!" the first lieutenant shouted at a sign from the captain, but before he could complete the order, Pawcett, for we may now call him by his right name, leaped on the bulwarks of the Bronx.

"This is a United States..." he began to say, but he was allowed to proceed no farther, for the first lieutenant raised the revolver he carried in his left hand, doubtless for this very purpose, and fired.

Pawcett did not utter another word, but fell back upon the deck of the Bronx, where no one took any further notice of him.

"Boarders, away!" shouted the first lieutenant.

This time the sentence was finished, and the order was promptly executed. Hardly a half minute had been lost by the attempt of Pawcett to prepare the officers of the Scotian to do their duty, but he had said enough to enable the ship’s company to understand what he would have said if he had finished his announcement. The officers and seamen were both surprised, and there was a panic among the latter, though the former rallied them in a moment. But they had lost all their chances, and after an insignificant struggle, the deck of the steamer was in possession of the boarders. The crew were driven forward by the victorious "Bronxies," as Giblock called them. "Do you surrender?" said Mr. Baskirk to the officer he took for the captain.

"I do not see that I have any other alternative," replied the commander of the Scotian, politely enough, but it was evident that he was sorely afflicted, and even ashamed of himself. "I understand now that I am the victim of a Yankee trick."

"Allow me to introduce you to Captain Passford, commander of the United States steamer Bronx," continued Mr. Baskirk, as Christy came on board of the prize.