Look, Harry! The ship is turning! The cannon have driven her off!" He was right.

The Star of the West, a small steamer, unable to face heavy guns, had curved about and was making for the open sea.

There was another tremendous shout from the crowd, and then silence.

Smoke from the cannon drifted lazily over the town, and, caught by a contrary breeze, was blown out over the sea in the track of the retreating steamer, where it met the black trail left by that vessel's own funnel.
The crowd, not cheering much now, but talking in rather subdued tones, dispersed.
Harry felt the chill down his spine again.

These were great matters.
He had looked upon no light event in the harbor of Charleston that day.
He and Arthur lingered on the wall, watching that trailing black dot on the horizon, until it died away and was gone forever.