United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Blockades -- Juvenile fiction
If Jack Gray had been in the cabin at that moment he would have seen
that he did a wise thing when he decided to hold fast to his revolver
instead of handing it over to the steward and depending upon him to
capture the midshipman, for when the latter emphasized his commands by
pulling his six-shooter from under his leg and raising and lowering the
hammer with one hand, keeping the muzzle pointed toward the steward's
head all the while, the latter grew as white as a sheet and trembled in
every limb. After he thought he had inflicted sufficient torture upon
the timid fellow, the Confederate put up his weapon and demanded:
"What State are you from?"
"Massachusetts, sir."
"Are all Massachusetts men as great cowards as you are?"
"Certainly, sir," answered the steward, who was afraid to say anything
else.
"Then we're going to have a walk-over, sure enough," said the rebel.
"You Yankees are afraid to fight."
"Certainly, sir."
Every word of this conversation was overheard by a man who, but for a
most unfortunate interruption, would have forced the Confederate officer
to swallow his words almost as soon as they had left his lips. It was
the skipper. He had come down from aloft and reached his cabin without
being seen, and it was in obedience to his instructions that the
prize-master had been asked below to get some supper. His plan was to
have the steward seat the officer with his back to a certain state-room,
so that he could be seized from behind and choked into submission before
he knew that there was a third party in the cabin; but that could not be
done now. The rebel's suspicions led him to change to the other side of
the table, and he now sat facing the state-room door, on whose farther
side stood the merchant captain with rage in his heart and a cocked
revolver in his hand. The captain knew that he was going to put himself
in danger when he attempted to make a prisoner of the midshipman, but
that did not deter him. When he heard that sweeping charge of cowardice
made against the men of his native State he could stand it no longer,
but jerked open the door and sprang into the cabin.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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