I have the honor to accept the receipt of your communication dated the second instant and to transcribe the decree of the fourth instant by His Excellency, the Minister of Marine, concerning the matter, viz: _The Minister of Marine, appreciating the spirit of the note, No. 830, and taking into consideration the fact that the damages were suffered in the service of the Allied Cause which we jointly defend, and desiring to have the approval of His Excellency, the Consul-General, and therefore of the Government which he represents, has decided that payment cannot be accepted for the repairs made._ _It is our pleasure and privilege to give all that is within our power, and we pledge our word to coöperate with our most earnest efforts for the cause of humanity and justice._ (_Signed_) PELO, _Director_ _To His Excellency_ “_To our Welfare and Fraternity_” _The Consul-General of the United States of America_ CHAPTER IX UNCLE SAM’S BRIDGE OF SHIPS When the _Corsair_ again meets a blow, The crew they will surely all know, Tho’ the distance be great, They’ll work early and late To make the good port of Lisboa. It’s hither and thither and there, But divil a bit do we scare, For the captain and crew Will see the thing through In the dear little gray _Corsair_. THE FO’CASTLE GLEE CLUB Ready again to tussle with the wintry seas offshore, the _Corsair_ sailed from Lisbon on January 26, 1918, and returned to her base at Brest at the usual cruising speed of fourteen knots. There were many pleasant memories of the smiling, gracious city on the Tagus, and a few broken hearts which were soon mended among the Yankee mariners who had sterner business and were anxious to get on with the war. They found a greatly increased activity at Brest, where the largest transports were pouring the troops ashore in swelling volume and thousands of negro stevedores emptied the holds of supplies which overflowed the wharves and the warehouses. The bold prediction of an American bridge of ships across the Atlantic was rapidly becoming a reality and the German confidence in ruthless submarine warfare was an empty boast, thanks to the skill and courage of the Allied naval forces. In one of the American yachts, as a seaman, was Joseph Husband, a trained writer who portrayed the swift expansion of activity in such words as these:[4] The flag has come into its own again. In the bright sunshine almost a hundred ships swing slowly at their anchor chains, a vast floating island of steel hulls, forested with slim, sparless masts and faintly smoking stacks. Our anchor is lifted and the chain rumbles up through the hawse-pipe. Slowly we steam past a wide mile of vessels to our position.