Summary

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Within The Enemy's Lines

The evening that followed the day on which 319 Colonel Passford visited his nephew was dark, foggy, rainy, and as gloomy as even a blockade runner might ask. Christy seated himself under one of the rear windows of the loft, which appeared to have been intended only for storage, and was only from seven to eight feet between studs. Flint placed himself at the side of his companion, as he was requested to do.
"This is just the kind of a night we want," said Christy, in a whisper, for he could hear the tramp of a sentinel outside the door of the loft.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Within The Enemy's Lines

Everything was perfectly still on the island, and only a single man was in sight; but Christy put his hand upon his revolver as he went on shore. Though he had never been a fighting young man, he had the impression that he should not tamely submit to the assault of an enemy, or run away from any single man that stood up in front of him. He had always been prudent, even while he had been daring, and he hardly needed the solemn admonition of the second lieutenant to be extremely cautious.
"Is that you, Captain Gilder?" asked the man on the shore, who stood a little way from the waterside.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Within The Enemy's Lines

The sounds from the boat had come from the starboard bow of the steamer, and it looked as though the guard-boat had intercepted her by accident, since it was impossible that they could have seen the Teaser in the fog and gloom. As the steamer dashed ahead at full speed, the sound of the oars came from a point on the beam. But the boat seemed to be wasting her time, for nothing had been done since the threat to fire into the steamer.
"If a vessel is going to run out she has to satisfy this boat that she is all right," said Dave.
Source: Gutenberg

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