The torpedo which I built for this business was the largest I had ever made. It was twelve feet long and four feet in diameter in the middle, and carried more than five hundred pounds of dynamite, for I wanted to be certain that the ship would be at least disabled by her contact with it. I paid the most careful attention to the mechanism and, to prevent the possibility of a miss-fire, arranged a double detonating apparatus which would explode the main charge when either one of the projecting arms was forced backward by pressing against the hull of the ship. With the completion of the torpedo, which it took us ten days to build, I tested it with five hundred and fifty pounds of iron and found that I had calculated the air chamber support to precisely the proper point, for it floated just below the surface of the water. Floriano came down to witness the final test, after a few leaks, developed by the first one, had been closed, and handed me a commission as Colonel in the Brazilian Army. He approved the plan of campaign which I had mapped out and said the necessary orders would be issued at once. “I believe you will succeed,” were his parting words. “I hope you will come back as General Boynton.” To the south of Rio Bay, which is the main harbor, and within the city itself, lies the little Bay of Botafogo, round like an apple and with a narrow entrance. On the north side of the harbor and cut off from it by a long, low peninsula which ends in a high promontory, is Nictheroy Bay. This peninsula, which is so low for a considerable distance back of its terminating eminence that it is covered by water at high tide, when it is crossed by a bridge, lies west of the Fort of Santa Cruz. Mello’s fleet was anchored off the peninsula, on the opposite side of the harbor from the city. While Mello had seized all of the government vessels in the harbor there were a few tugs left, which, to prevent his interference, were flying the British flag, on the pretence that they were owned by Englishmen. I was to be given one of these tugs and my plan was to steal around into Nictheroy Bay at night and anchor close under the hill at the end of the peninsula, where I would be hidden from the rebel fleet. In the morning I would load the torpedo and wait for the daily exchange of cannon courtesies between the “Aquidaban” and the fort. An officer at Santa Cruz was to signal me when Mello left his anchorage and then, towing the submerged torpedo by a wire rope too small to be detected, I would steam out from behind the sheltering promontory and head for Botafogo Bay. This would carry me directly across the course of the “Aquidaban,” which would pick up the towing line on her bow, drag the torpedo alongside of her, and, as I expected and hoped, be destroyed by the explosion which would ensue when one of its long arms came in contact with her hull.