Lieutenants Wadsworth and Israel were the only officers allowed to join expedition, which was comprised of a small crew of picked men. The Intrepid was escorted as far as was prudent by three vessels of the squadron, who hove to, to avoid suspicion, and to be ready to pick up the boats upon their return: the Constitution, under easy sail in the offing. Many a brave heart could almost hear its own pulsations in those vessels, as she became more and more indistinct, and gradually disappeared in the distance. They watched for some time with intense anxiety, when a heavy cannonade was opened from the Turkish batteries, which, by its flashes, discovered the ketch determinedly progressing on her deadly errand. She was slowly and surely making for the entrance of the mole, when the whole atmosphere suddenly blazed as if into open day; the mast with all its sails shot high up in the air; shells whizzed, rocket like, exploding in every direction; a deafening roar followed and all sunk again into the deepest pitchy darkness. The Americans waited—waited—in anxious—at last sickening suspense. Their companions came not—the hours rolled on—no boat hailed—no oar splashed in the surrounding darkness. The East grew grey with the dawn—the sun shone brightly above the horizon, nought but a few shattered vessels lying near the shore—the flotilla—the batteries—and the minarets of Tripoli, gilded by the morning sunbeams, met their gaze. Those noble spirits had written their history. Whether consigned to eternity by a shot of the enemy, prematurely exploding the magazine, or from the firing of the train by their own hands, must always remain untold and unknown. [3] The U. S. Brig Somers, in which the late daring mutiny was suppressed by the prompt and decided measures of Lt. Alexander Slidell McKenzie, was named after this hero of the Tripolitan war. * * * * *