as selected for the venture. It could not have
been more favorable, for it was of impenetrable darkness and a fine,
misty rain was falling. Cushing's companions in the picket boat were:
Acting Ensign W.L. Howarth, Acting Master's Mates T.S. Gay and John
Woodman, Acting Assistant Paymaster F.H. Swan, Acting Third Assistant
Engineers C.L. Steever and W. Stotesbury, and eight men whose names were
as follows: S. Higgens, first-class fireman; R. Hamilton, coal heaver;
W. Smith, B. Harley, E.J. Houghton, ordinary seamen; L. Deming, H.
Wilkes, and R.H. King, landsmen. He took in tow a small cutter, with
which to capture the guard that was in a schooner anchored near the
_Southfield_ that had been raised, and whose duty it was to send up an
alarm rocket on the approach of any expedition against the _Albemarle_.
It was intended to run ashore a little below the ram, board and capture
her by surprise, and take her down the river.

It was about midnight that the start was made. Several of the men were
familiar with the river, and the boat kept close to shore, where the
gloom was still more profound. No one spoke except when necessary and
then in the lowest tones, while all listened and peered into the drizzly
night. The straining ears could hear only the soft rippling of the water
from the prow and the faint muffled clanking of the engine. The speed
was slackened as they approached the schooner, whose outlines soon
assumed form. No one whispered, but all held themselves ready for the
rush the moment the guard discovered them.

Sentinels, however, are not always alert, and on this dismal night the
guard detected nothing of the phantom craft which glided past like a
shadow with the cutter in tow. This was the first stroke of good
fortune, and each man felt a thrill of encouragement, for only a mile
remained to be passed to reach the _Albemarle_.

A little way further and the boats swept around a bend in the river,
where, had it been daylight, they could have seen the ram. Here was
where the fires had been kept blazing the night through, but the guards
were as drowsy as those below, for they had allowed them to sputter and
die down to a few embers, while the sentinels were doubtless trying to
keep comfortable in the wet, dismal night.

Still stealing noiselessly forward, the men in the boat soon saw the
gloom slowly take shape in front. The outlines revealed the massive
ironclad lying still and motionless against the wharf, with no