the shore below here, when I tried for three days to blow her up. I came pretty near doing it, too, one night; but I can say to-day, sir, that I am glad I did not succeed. I remember how dark 't was that night,—dark as my pocket; and I was creeping out from the shore in an old dory with a torpedo of my own construction in tow, when a boat with a Federal officer crossed our bow. He challenged; I pulled for dear life. He fired; the boats became entangled, and the torpedo exploded. I was washed on shore and taken up for dead, with three fingers gone and two ribs broken. I never knew what became of the other boat or the Union officer."
"Perhaps I can tell you something of his fate." It was General Ruysdale who spoke.
"You, sir! What can you possibly know about the event?"
"On the night of the nineteenth of April, 1862—that was the date of your adventure, was it not?—an officer in command of the troops on board this ship volunteered to make a reconnoissance of the line of obstructions which, you remember, was stretched across the river from bank to bank to bar the channel nearly opposite Fort Jackson. It was a well-constructed defence of heavy ships' chains, supported and buoyed by hulks, rafts, logs, and half a dozen large schooners. Farragut's fleet, you will remember, moved
