The air was full of rumors. All was uncertain. We continued to write farewell letters, while the invading fleet still lay quietly at anchor, but ready to sail to the ends of the earth at a few hours' notice. The night of August 10th was moonless and dark. There had been no music from the "Oregon's" band, and none of our men felt inclined to sing. The uncertainty had begun to tell, and all were a little depressed. I was "it" for anchor watch, and, as is often the case, the anchor watch manned the running small boat. We visited several vessels of the fleet, the crew staying in the boat while the officers went aboard. When we finally started to return to our own ship, we carried two of our officers, Mr. Duncan, Mr. Barnard, and an officer from the "Indiana." As we cleared the wall-like sides of the "St. Paul," we noted that the general signal call (four red lights) was up on the "New York." Then, as we watched, the red and white bulbs began to spell out a message that made us all thrill with joy. The interest of the moment broke down all barriers of rank, and officers and men spelled out the exciting words aloud. A-S-S-O-C-I-A-T-E-D P-R-E-S-S D-E-S-P-A-T-C-H S-T-A-T-E-S T-H-A-T P-E-A-C-E P-R-O-T-O-C-O-L H-A-S B-E-E-N A-G-R-E-E-D U-P-O-N. We Jackies would have liked to yell, but our lessons had been too well learned, and we restrained ourselves. We put the officer from the "Indiana" aboard his own ship and then returned to the "Yankee." As soon as the boat was secured for the night, I went around waking some of my particular friends to tell them the great news, forgetting that they could see it quite as well as I. All were too good-natured, however, to object; on the contrary, they seemed glad to talk about it. There was some dispute as to the meaning of the word "protocol"; but all agreed that, whatever its meaning, it must be good, coupled as it was with "peace." As we talked quietly, we heard faintly, softly, a verse of "Morse's" song: "Our fighting cruise will soon be o'er, Hurrah! Hurrah! We'll be happy the moment our feet touch shore, Hurrah! Hurrah! And 'Cutlets' and 'Hubbub' and all the rest May stick to the calling they're fitted for best, But _we'll_ all feel gay when The 'Yankee' goes sailing home." In spite of the peace news we got orders to go out with the "Dixie" and blockade the Crooked Island Passage. So about four o'clock we hauled up the anchor and went to sea. All were gay, and many shook their hands in farewell to Guantanamo Bay. We were instructed to keep a sharp lookout for the steamer "Monserrat," which had gained fame as a blockade runner. It was rumored that she carried Captain-General Blanco; that she was well armed, and had a captain noted for his unscrupulousness and for his fighting qualities.