So about four o'clock we hauled up the anchor and went to sea.

All were gay, and many shook their hands in farewell to Guantanamo Bay.
We were instructed to keep a sharp lookout for the steamer "Monserrat," which had gained fame as a blockade runner.

It was rumored that she carried Captain-General Blanco; that she was well armed, and had a captain noted for his unscrupulousness and for his fighting qualities.
"I'd like to meet that ship," said "Hay," "have a good 'scrap' with her, get a couple of shot holes in our upper works and battle flags, and then bring her triumphantly into Key West or, better still, New York." "Want to go out in a blaze of glory, do you ?" said Tommy, the long.
"Sure.

I'd like to burn some of that powder we took such trouble to load." This expressed the sentiments of the whole ship's company.
To have one more good fight--in which we were to come out victorious, of course--get a few souvenir shot holes where no harm would be done, and then go home.

This would just about have suited us.
We floated around lazily all day Friday and Saturday with a chip on our shoulder, as it were, but no "Monserrat" came to knock it off.
The lookouts at the masthead strained their eyes, and half the men not actually at work did likewise.