This determination was taken unanimously.  The choice of a port was discussed.  The neighbouring coast had no harbour on the 27th degree of latitude.  Higher up, above the peninsula of Monterey, was the important town which has given its name to it.  But, seated on the confines of a veritable desert, it had no telegraphic communication with the interior, and electricity alone could spread the important news quickly enough.

Some degrees above lay the bay of San Francisco.  Through the capital of the Gold Country communication with the centre of the Union would be easy.  By putting all steam on, the Susquehanna, in less than two days, could reach the port of San Francisco.  She must, therefore, start at once.

The fires were heaped up, and they could set sail immediately.  Two thousand fathoms of sounding still remained in the water.  Captain Blomsberry would not lose precious time in hauling it in, and resolved to cut the line.

“We will fix the end to a buoy,” said he, “and the buoy will indicate the exact point where the projectile fell.”

“Besides,” answered Lieutenant Bronsfield, “we have our exact bearings:  north lat. 27 deg. 7’, and west long. 41 deg. 37’.”

“Very well, Mr. Bronsfield,” answered the captain; “with your permission, have the line cut.”

A strong buoy, reinforced by a couple of spars, was thrown out on to the surface of the ocean.  The end of the line was solidly struck beneath, and only submitted to the ebb and flow of the surges, so that it would not drift much.

At that moment the engineer came to warn the captain that he had put the pressure on, and they could start.  The captain thanked him for his excellent communication.  Then he gave N.N.E. as the route.  The corvette was put about, and made for the bay of San Francisco with all steam on.  It was then 3 a.m.

Two hundred leagues to get over was not much for a quick vessel like the Susquehanna.  It got over that distance in thirty-six hours, and on the 14th of December, at 1.27 p.m., she would enter the bay of San Francisco.

At the sight of this vessel of the national navy arriving with all speed on, her bowsprit gone, and her mainmast propped up, public curiosity was singularly excited.  A compact crowd was soon assembled on the quays awaiting the landing.

After weighing anchor Captain Blomsberry and Lieutenant Bronsfield got down into an eight-oared boat which carried them rapidly to the land.

They jumped out on the quay.

“The telegraph-office?” they asked, without answering one of the thousand questions that were showered upon them.

The port inspector guided them himself to the telegraph-office, amidst an immense crowd of curious people.

Blomsberry and Bronsfield went into the office whilst the crowd crushed against the door.

A few minutes later one message was sent in four different directions:—­1st, to the Secretary of the Navy, Washington; 2nd, to the Vice-President of the Gun Club, Baltimore; 3rd, to the Honourable J.T.  Maston, Long’s Peak, Rocky Mountains; 4th, to the Sub-Director of the Cambridge Observatory, Massachusetts.