“Commodore, I’ve got my plan all worked out, and I’ll carry it through or die with it! If I don’t succeed in destroying that iron-clad, she will come out here before long, and perhaps sink the fleet. It’s worth the risk, sir, and I’m willing to take it along with my volunteer crew.” Then, as his natural spirit of recklessness and humor comes to the surface for a moment, he smiles and continues, “It’s either another stripe or death, Commodore.” The flag-officer presses the young man’s hand, while he says, huskily, “God bless and grant you success and a safe return!” Preceded by the quartermaster, Lieutenant Cushing descends the gangway ladder and drops into the launch. “Lieutenant,” says the old man, “there won’t be no sleep in the fleet to-night; if ye’ll hexcuse the liberty, sir, I’ll be a-prayin’ for ye.” “All right, Lynch; but pray hard, for I’ll need it,” replies Cushing. Then he looks at the face of the little dial which registers the steam-pressure, and turns to the engineer: “Keep a full head of steam up, but be careful not to let her get so much that she will open the safety-valve and let Johnny know we’re coming.” Next he goes forward, examines the torpedo-spar, stations his small crew, orders the furnace door closed, and lays hold of the steering-wheel in the forward cockpit. “Shove off,” he orders. The great black hull of the flag-ship slips into the gloom ahead. A moment later the propeller churns the water, the tiller is put over to port, the head of the launch swerves to starboard, and is kept steadily pointed towards Plymouth, where lies the great rebel iron-clad _Albemarle_, waiting only for the time, speedily coming, when, with equipment complete, she will steam out to do battle with the wooden walls of her enemies. After the fleet has been left well astern, the boyish commander orders the engines stopped, and calls the men around him. “Boys,” he says, “I’m going to tell you my plan, so that you may work it out, if possible, in case anything happens to me when we get under fire. As soon as I make out the ship and get my bearings, I’m going to put on a full head of steam, and jump the launch over the logs that surround her on the water side. Once over the spars, it will be only a few feet between us and the hull; so we must have the torpedo ready to push under the water against her side as soon as we get near enough. On the dock that she is moored to they have a couple of howitzers and a company of sharp-shooters to help guard the approach from sea, and on board they are sure to be prepared to give us a warm welcome. I will keep the wheel until we are over the logs, then I will handle the torpedo, so see that it is clear for me. But if I should fall, try to carry out my plan, then jump overboard, dive under the logs, swim across the river, and make your way down along the bank until you get abreast of the fleet, where you can signal. That is all, except to strip yourselves for a swim. Do you understand?”