THE PRISONER OF WAR
After rendering his decision it was evident that Captain Battleton had
something to say to Christy, for he waited in silence till Corny had
closed the door behind him before he even looked at the officer standing
before him. The lieutenant from the moment the envelopes were opened and
their contents exposed to the view of all present, had fully expected
the result just announced. Whatever he thought, suspected, or surmised
when he saw the blank papers taken from his official envelope, he kept
to himself.
"You have heard the decision I have just given, Mr. Passford, for I have
no doubt that is your real name," said the captain, when the cabin door
was closed.
"I have, captain," replied Christy, bowing respectfully.
"Have you anything to say in regard to it?"
"Nothing at all," replied Christy, bowing again, and bearing himself
with the dignity of a veteran officer; and in the matter of demeanor,
the Confederate Captain Carboneer had presented to him one of the best
models he had seen, both in action and as a prisoner.
"You do not wish to make any explanation of the remarkable situation in
which you find yourself placed at the present moment?"
"At present, I do not, captain."
"You certainly could not have been aware that your official envelope
contained only blank paper. I cannot believe that one more simple-minded
than I believe you to be would have had the effrontery to present such
matter as evidence that he was an officer of the United States Navy,"
continued Captain Battleton, with a look of greater severity than he had
before assumed, possibly because he realized that the real Lieutenant
Passford was higher in rank than he was himself.
"I supposed the official envelope contained my commission and orders."
"You believe that your papers were taken from you, and the blanks
substituted for them?"
"I cannot explain the matter at present, and you must excuse me from
offering merely vague suspicions and conjectures."
"Do you realize your present situation, Mr. Passford?" asked the
captain, apparently disappointed at the unwillingness of the young man
to attempt an explanation.
"I think I do, captain, and I submit to your authority as the commander
of the ship," answered Christy, with a dignified bow.
"As I said before, I have no doubt you are a Passford; and I have been
compelled to decide that you are not the son of Captain Horatio
Passford, the distinguished gentleman who has done so much for his
country in the present war."
"With the evidence before you, I do not see how you could have decided
otherwise."
"Whether the decision be just or not, I am obliged to regard you as son
of the Homer Passford who supports the government of the Confederacy.
You and the other Mr. Passford have recognized each other as cousins."
"We are cousins."
"Then it follows that one of the two must be a Confederate who is on
board of a United States ship for some purpose not yet explained, but
fairly supposed to be hostile."
"I admit the correctness of your conclusion."
"I have already recognized the Union officer, and therefore you must be
the Confederate."
"Without reflecting upon your decision, I must deny that I am a
Confederate, and proclaim that my motto is 'Stand by the Union!'"
"In spite of your denial and your motto, I shall have to regard you as
a prisoner of war, and treat you as such," said the captain, rising from
his chair, the others following his example.
"I submit to your authority, Captain Battleton," replied Christy, bowing
to the commander.
"But I do not wish to subject you to any unnecessary restraint, and I
shall be willing to accept your parole that you will engage in no
hostile movement on board of the Vernon," continued the captain, in
milder tones.
"I cannot accept a parole, captain, for that would be equivalent to an
admission that I am a Confederate; and I claim to be a loyal officer."
"If you are, I am sorry that you are unable to prove your claim. I have
only one officer on board as a passenger, for the reason that I had only
one spare stateroom. There is no place for you in the ward room, and it
does not appear that you are an officer."
"I shall find no fault with my accommodations, whatever they are,"
replied Christy.
"I must object to your wearing the shoulder straps of a lieutenant on
board of the Vernon," added Captain Battleton.
"I have a plain frock in my valise which I wore when the Teaser was
captured," added Christy with a smile. "I will remove my coat and wear
that."
"Now I will see where I can find a place for you to berth," said the
captain as he left the cabin.
"I am sorry you did not explain the blank paper in your envelope, Mr.
Passford," said the surgeon, as they were leaving the cabin.
"I cannot explain it--how can I?" replied Christy. "Whoever took out my
papers and put the blanks in their place, did not make me his confidant
in the operation."
"But can you not recall some event or circumstance which will throw some
light on the mystery?" persisted Dr. Connelly.
"I can; but I have not had time to consider any events or circumstances,
and it would not be treating Captain Battleton with proper respect to
submit a string of crude conjectures to him."
At this moment the captain appeared in the gangway, and interrupted the
conversation. He informed the prisoner of war, as he chose to regard
him, that he had directed the carpenter to put up a temporary berth for
him. Christy opened his valise, and took from it his frock, which he put
on after he had disposed of his coat. Then he looked like a common
sailor. He was informed that his berth was just forward of the steerage,
in that part of the steamer where the men slung their hammocks. The
third lieutenant was directed to show him to the place indicated.
The carpenter and his assistants were still at work on the berth, and
Christy, placing his valise near it, seated himself by it. For the first
time since he came on board of the Vernon he had an opportunity to
reflect upon the events of the day. Corny Passford was the present
master of the situation. He had not been aware till he met him in the
captain's cabin, that his cousin was even in the vicinity of New York.
With an amount of assurance for which he had not given him credit, Corny
had undertaken to personate his nautical relative, and was now actually
on his way to the Gulf to take command of the Bronx.
The little gunboat had certainly done a great deal of mischief to
the Confederate interests, for she had captured two valuable vessels
intended for the southern navy, to say nothing of half a dozen others
loaded with cotton, and ready to sail. From the Confederate point of
view, it was exceedingly desirable that she should be prevented from
doing any further injury to the maritime interests of the South. But it
seemed almost incredible that Corny Passford should be employed to bring
about her capture by stratagem. His cousin was not a sailor; at least,
he had not been one the last time he had met him, and it was hardly
possible that he had learned seamanship, navigation, and naval tactics
in so short a time, and so far as Christy knew, with little practical
experience.
He had seen the commission which Corny presented to the captain of the
Vernon, and recognized it as his own. In spite of the statements his
cousin had made, Christy saw that the handwriting of the report he
submitted as a copy of the genuine document was in Corny's usual
handwriting. Where had he obtained the commission, and where the
original report? These were not hard questions, now that the
preliminaries of the plot had been fully developed.
Walsh, the man-servant at Bonnydale, was now a seaman on board of the
Vernon, under the real or assumed name of Byron. He denied his identity,
as he would naturally do under the circumstances; but Christy had not
a doubt that he was the man who had suddenly disappeared after the
mysterious visitation of the night before. Doubtless, Corny had been the
visitor at the mansion, and had procured the contents of the official
envelope on this occasion.
He appeared to have been unwilling to trust Byron, as the seaman
preferred to be called, and had attended to the business in person with
the assistance of his confederate. The report was lying on the table in
his chamber, and Byron could have borrowed it for any length of time to
enable Corny to make a copy. Whoever had visited his chamber in the
night, whether Corny or the man-servant, he must have taken the official
envelope to the library, or some other part of the house, for it had
been carefully opened, and restored to its former condition after the
genuine documents in it had been replaced by the blank paper.
It was now all as clear to Christy as though he had observed the
proceedings of the conspirators, and taken notes of all they had done.
The purpose of all these operations was quite as obvious as the details
of the scheme. Either the Vernon or the Bronx was to be captured,
perhaps both, for of course Christy could not determine in what manner
the mischief was to be accomplished. Prisoner of war as he was, he never
felt burdened with a greater responsibility than when he realized the
actual situation.
This responsibility was not of a personal nature. He did not have the
feeling that he had been vanquished in the contest before the captain,
and the fact that he was a prisoner hardly disturbed him. It was the
prospective injury to the cause of his country which occasioned his
solicitude. His object was to save the Vernon, the Bronx, or both, from
being handed over to the enemy without a struggle to save them, one or
both.
He had no fault to find with the captain for his decision against
him, which seemed to be natural and warrantable. He had no ill-feeling
against his cousin, for he was trying to serve the cause he had
espoused. He was even willing to believe that he would have done the
same thing himself under like circumstances.
After he had considered the subject for a couple of hours he went back
to one of his first points, relating to the fitness and capacity of
Corny to accomplish the task he had undertaken. It was evident enough
on the face of it that his cousin, even if he had been a veteran naval
officer, could not carry out the plan alone. He must have confederates,
in the double sense, on board of the Vernon. In the early stages of the
war, men who had served in the navy as officers were coming home from
all parts of the world to take part on one side or the other in the
struggle. Those even who were disloyal could obtain commissions in
the loyal navy if their consciences would let them take the oath of
allegiance with a mental reservation. Christy had encountered several
of this kind.
Many of the seamen were foreigners who cared little on which side they
served, and one or more of the four officers in the ward room might be
at work for the Confederacy. Christy thought he was in an excellent
position to investigate the matter, and he decided that this should be
his first duty. Among the crew there must be some who were to take part
in the plot of Corny, whatever it was.
Before the close of the conference the Atlantic had begun to be quite
"sloppy," and the Vernon was now laboring in an ugly cross sea, which
caused her to roll heavily.