Captain Brownson hurried to the bridge and presently word was passed to go to quarters at once. The ports were opened, ammunition made ready for both the main and secondary batteries, and the crew stood at their guns in readiness for action. It was a very impressive sight, the grim weapons just showing in the dim lantern light, the great cartridges standing close to the breeches, the men quiet and steady, their faces showing anxiety but perfect self-control. I was proud to belong to such a crew, for the majority thought that an action was imminent, and perhaps a superior foe to be fought, yet there was no sign of that fear which is supposed to attack the novice in battle. It was a convincing proof of American bravery and self-reliance. In the meantime the engines had been called on for full speed, and the ship throbbed and swayed with the increased power. Extra men were presently sent below to the fire room, and it soon became evident that we were in actual chase of the suspicious vessel. From my station at the after port gun I was enabled to catch an occasional glimpse of the sea through the open port. The squall had passed in part and the night was growing lighter. The rain still fell, though fitfully, and at times a dash of water entered the port, besprinkling gun and crew and fighting tackle, leaving great drops that glistened like dew in the waning light of the lanterns. Alongside, white-capped waves raced with the ship. As the gloom lightened, the horizon spread, and presently, away in the distance, a dark spot, like a smudge upon a gray background, became visible. "Long Tommy," attached to my gun, leaned far out of the port with an exclamation of excitement. "By George! it's another ship," he added. "We are in a nest of the Dagoes," cried young Potter, rather wildly. "We have run into an ambuscade." "You've got a great chance to become a dead hero," remarked the first gun captain dryly. Word was passed from above to break out more shell, and presently the navigator slipped down the ladder and made a close inspection of the different five-inch guns. As he went from crew to crew he gave whispered instructions to the officers in charge. "The old man expects trouble this trip," whispered Tommy. He coolly stripped off his shirt and stood, half-naked, the muscles of his athletic chest and arms gleaming like white marble in the uncertain light. Most of us followed his example, and the spectacle of the swaying groups of men, bared for action, added a dramatic tinge to the scene. Below, the powerful engines throbbed with a pulsation that set every bolt and joint creaking, the strident echoes of the firemen's shovels could he heard scraping against the iron floor, and little whistlings of steam came like higher notes in the general tune. Even the noises of the ship were strange and weird and impressive.