The Firefly had not been seen on board the Sunny South until both steamers were off Wilmington. After passing Frying Pan Shoals, a shot from the Firefly had partially crippled her port wheel, which accident had caused her to lose ground rapidly. The projectile from the hundred pounder had completely shattered her stern, and disabled her rudder, and knocked the engine "all in a heap." The port quarter boat was torn to pieces by a shell, the same which had given Pillgrim his mortal wound. The after tackle of the other quarter boat had been shot away, and when it was dropped into the water the oars were gone. Most of the crew had saved themselves by swimming ashore. The Ben Ledi had a valuable cargo, which the informer declared was totally destroyed by fire or water. On her arrival at Port Royal, the Firefly coaled without delay; the body of Pillgrim was buried, and after forwarding his despatches to the navy department by a supply steamer, Somers sailed again on another cruise after privateers, Confederate cruisers, and blockade runners. The Tallahassee and the Chickamauga were supposed to be at Wilmington, but the Olustee was believed to be still afloat. Of this cruise our limits do not permit us to record details; but the Firefly captured a valuable steamer in December, and sent her into port. This was the only prize she obtained; and being short of coal, she ran into Boston, on New Year's day, where her prize had arrived before her. Somers immediately forwarded his despatches, and awaited the orders of the department. Of course he hastened down to Pinchbrook as soon as he could leave the ship, where he was heartily welcomed and warmly congratulated upon his successful cruise. "Here's something for you, John," said Mrs. Somers, taking a daintily made up letter from the mantel-piece, when the welcome had been given, kisses bestowed, and hands shaken. "It has been here a fortnight." Somers knew the handwriting, for it had often gladdened his heart before, and a flush came to his cheeks as he tore open the envelope. It was from Kate Portington, whom the young commander had not failed to think of every day during his absence, though it was with pain and sorrow at the rupture which had separated them. The letter healed his only wound. "I shall never forgive myself," she wrote, "for my harsh treatment of you; and I am afraid you can never forgive me. I have seen Mr. Hackleford, who says that he _ordered_ you to sign that horrible paper. Why didn't you tell me so, John?" He would have told her so, if she had given him an opportunity. But she was repentant, and Somers was rejoiced. The letter was four pages in length, and among all the pleasant things it contained, the pleasantest was that she was spending a month in Boston, at the residence of a friend, where she hoped to see him.