This was the first time I had been permitted to look at the captain since my disappointment, and I most eagerly scanned his face for some indication of his feeling toward me; once or twice I caught his eye, but I found little comfort there. He was a fierce-looking fellow, and particularly so when fixed up in his Sunday toggery.
The other ships of the squadron, as well as the fort and the Rebels, seemed to be putting on their best attire and were feeling comfortable in their Sunday dress.
Inside the harbor, the Rebels seemed to be enjoying Sunday excursions with their little boats; the officers on the ships and the fort were exchanging friendly visits.
I had, as a special Sunday privilege, I suppose, been told to resume the freedom of the ship as at first, and was lounging in my haunt above, where I could see all about us.
Along some time in the afternoon I noticed a little steam-tug steam out past Fort Pickens, puffing and dancing along in the direction of the admiral's flag-ship. The striking peculiarity about the little boat was, that at her bow she floated a white flag, not larger than a bathing towel, while on the rear staff were flaunted the Rebel colors.
My curiosity having been greatly excited by the sailors' talks of flags-of-truce to the fort, in which I was in some unknown way connected by them, I watched with intense interest every movement this little craft made; she came on, dancing along between the shore and the squadron until the flag-ship was almost abreast of her, then suddenly turning, the fluttering white flag pointed directly to the admiral's ship, and was lost to my sight behind her great sides.
Others on board were watching this also, and I could see that the glances of the men would turn significantly from the little truce boat to me.
Mr. Queen had gone off visiting, but Mr. Perry was on hand, sullen and disagreeable.
They stopped so long aboard the Admiral's ship that one of the younger officers ventured to say to me in a side whisper, feeling perhaps that I needed some comfort: "Oh, they are just over for a Sunday visit to the Admiral," and then walked briskly away from me as if afraid of being seen by Perry talking to the Rebel Spy.
He had scarcely turned away from me when, on looking in the direction of the flag-ship, I saw the white flag come bobbing out from under the stern of the big ship. Were they going back to their Rebel camps? _No!_ they were bearing straight down on us, while they were waving adieus to the officers, who were looking over the bulwarks of the ship they had just quitted.