uld be strange if among a thousand dreams not one should prove true.
So this dream passed for the time from my mind.

We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave. Lydia
looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we expected a
trial to our nerves.

After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried one; we
went to a sand-hill near the beach.

To the south of the _Minnesota_ now lay a peculiar vessel. No one had
ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a flat raft with a
big round cistern--such as are seen in the South and West--amidships,
and a very big box or barrel on one end.

The _Merrimac_ was coming; there were crowds of spectators on the
batteries and on the dunes.

The _Monitor_ remained near the _Minnesota_; the _Merrimac_ came on.
From each of the iron ships came great spouts of smoke, from each the
sound of heavy guns. The wind drove away the smoke rapidly; every
manoeuvre could be seen.

The _Merrimac_ looked like a giant by the side of the other, but the
other was quicker.

They fought for hours, the _Merrimac_ slowly moving past the _Monitor_
and firing many guns, the _Monitor_ turning quickly and seeming to fire
but seldom. Sometimes they were so near each other they seemed to touch.

At last they parted; the _Monitor_ steamed toward the shore, and the
great _Merrimac_ headed southward and went away into the distance.

Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in our little
group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling was too deep; on
the issue of the contest depended vast results.

When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I could not
tell whether our side had won, but I know that the _Merrimac_ had hauled
off without accomplishing her purpose; I think that was all that any of
us knew. At any moment I should not have been astonished to see the
_Merrimac_ blow her little antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my
mind the fight had been very unequal.

"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp, "and now
McClellan's army can come without fear."

"Do you think," I asked, "that the _Merrimac_ is so badly done up that
she will not try it again?"

"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is damaged; but
of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she could have fought
longer with hope of victory, she would not have retired; her retreat
means that she has reno