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Updated: June 14, 2025
"One moment! Send Leclair back to me. Inform Ferrara that he is to command the second gun-crew." "Yes, sir!" And the woman was gone. Leclair appeared, some moments later. He suspected nothing of the subterfuge whereby the Master had obtained a few minutes' conversation alone with "Captain Alden." "You sent for me, sir?" asked the Frenchman. "I did. I have some questions to ask you.
The American in command of the gun-crew was the only one who smiled, and he did it openly. Captain Trigger's face darkened redly. "Take this man in charge, Mr. Shannon. He wants work. Give it him. Under guard." "Am I suspected, Captain Trigger, of being in league " "Every man, every woman on board this ship is suspected," said the Captain with decision. "Every one, sir, from myself down.
Two were still working with the odd-shaped weapon. There were other Lorens coming out of the hedges, but they held back. They had seen enough. Had fortune favored Ato then, his army would have won. But at the precise moment when the balance was swinging toward the Brons, Grim Hagen's gun-crew got the strange weapon unlimbered. The globe started turning. Unseen motors roared within it.
The whole barricade fired, the report was terrible; an avalanche of smoke covered and effaced both cannon and men; after a few seconds, the cloud dispersed, and the cannon and men re-appeared; the gun-crew had just finished rolling it slowly, correctly, without haste, into position facing the barricade. Not one of them had been struck.
They were armed with everything from staves, blunderbusses, old forty-fours and Sharps rifles to machine guns. They fired and fired. Grim Hagen's men went down. But though dozens of ill-aimed shots were fired at him, Grim Hagen still lived, dodging here and there, rallying his men, and urging his gun-crew to finish setting up that odd weapon.
But the three moved forward, while the fourth hesitated behind them. As though struggling against a heavy flood they came on. The gun-crew died defending their whirling weapon. The three Kalis swarmed over it like bees smothering the enemy, Odin thought. The pulsing coiling light died. There was a burst of flame.
I saw the depleted gun-crew on the submarine fire their piece and I felt the shock of impact and heard the loud explosion as the shell struck and exploded in our bows. I saw and realized these things even as I was leaping into the pilot-house and grasping the wheel, standing astride the dead body of the helmsman.
Bradley passed the order down into the ship and a moment later the gun-crew clambered up the narrow ladder and at my direction trained their piece upon the slow-moving Swede. "Fire a shot across her bow," I instructed the gun-captain. Accept it from me, it didn't take that Swede long to see the error of his way and get the red and white pennant signifying "I understand" to the masthead.
Some exploded on impact, some inside; all did work. An eight-inch projectile entered the after turret-port, and silenced the gun and gun-crew forever. Before the Argyll was abeam the Moscow had ceased firing.
The Essex fired three guns at the Arkansas while in range, from one of which a shell crashed through the armor of the Rebel boat, disabling an entire gun-crew. The Queen of the West attempted to perform her part of the work, but the current was so strong where the Arkansas lay that it was impossible to deal an effective blow.
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