A CHANGE OF QUARTERS IN THE CONFUSION
Christy obeyed the order of Captain Battleton when he was directed to
report below; but he felt that he was permitting the plot of his cousin
to be carried out without any opposition, and without any attempt to
check its progress. But he was a prisoner, and he realized that he could
do nothing. His case had been tried, and he had been condemned to his
present condition. It was useless to appeal to the captain, for he had
already passed upon all the facts that had been presented before him.
Seated on the side of his berth he considered the situation very
faithfully. The Bronx lay off St. Rosa's Island; she was on the
blockade, evidently ready to trip her anchor, whenever occasion should
require. In regard to her officers Christy only knew that Mr. Flint was
in temporary command of her, in place of Mr. Blowitt, who had become the
executive officer of the Bellevite. The other officers must have been
appointed for temporary service.
As Christy viewed the matter, there appeared to be no obstacle to the
success of Corny's scheme for the capture of the Bronx, unless it was
Mr. Flint, who might or might not discover that the new commander was an
impostor. If his old associate saw the two cousins together, he would
have no difficulty in determining which was his former commander; seeing
Corny alone he might be deceived. With the flag-officer, who had seen
Christy but once or twice, he was not likely to suspect that Corny was
an impostor.
The Bronx had but one officer on board who had been permanently
appointed to her, and at least two others must be selected to serve
on board of her. It would be an easy matter for Corny to procure the
appointment of Mr. Galvinne, who was doubtless competent to handle the
vessel as the impostor certainly was not.
When he realized that the scheme of his cousin, or whoever had devised
it, was in a fair way to accomplish its object, Christy felt that he
must do something. Though he was a prisoner and in disgrace, he did not
feel that he was absolved from the duty of attempting to save the Bronx
to the Union. He had refused to accept a parole, or anything of that
kind, and his honor as an officer did not require him to submit to the
discipline of his situation. He was a prisoner; but the responsibility
of retaining him as such belonged to the captain of the Vernon for the
present.
His reflections relieved him of all scruples in regard to any action he
might resolve to take. He was held in confinement as a Confederate. When
he had been taken by the enemy and locked up as a Union prisoner, he had
considered his duty, independently of his desire to be free, and he had
effected his escape with Flint. In the present instance his confinement
was not irksome, but he felt more keenly than before that he ought to do
something to save the little gunboat; and he could do nothing without
first getting into a position where he could act.
Between the decks of the Vernon, he could do nothing; he could not even
see what was going on, though he had no doubt the captain was in the act
of reporting to the flag-officer. Probably Corny would go off in the
first boat to report for duty, and receive his orders. The seamen
who were simply passengers on board of the steamer, were below in
considerable numbers, gathering up their bags, and preparing for the
transfer to the flag-ship, or to the Bronx, for there were no other
vessels near to receive them.
Christy felt very much like a caged tiger. He had hoped that the
Bellevite would be on the station when he arrived, for there were plenty
of officers and seamen on board of her who could identify him beyond the
possibility of a doubt. In that case he intended to make a strong appeal
to Captain Battleton, for he would then have the means of arriving at a
correct conclusion. Then he could explain in what manner he had been
robbed of his papers with some chance of having his statement accepted.
The prisoner walked up and down the lower deck, doing his best to
conceal the agitation which had taken possession of him. No one took any
notice of him, for the seamen had become accustomed to the presence of
the captive officer. While he was struggling to contain his emotions, he
heard the rattle of the cable again, and saw the chain descending to the
locker below.
"What does that mean, my man?" asked Christy of one of the men near him.
"They appear to be weighing the anchor."
"That is what they are doing," replied the man indifferently.
"What is that for?"
"The flag officer has not told me yet what he is about, and I am not
good at guessing, though I am a Yankee," replied the man chuckling,
as though he believed he had said something funny.
"The flag-officer has signalled for the Vernon to come alongside,"
interposed another seaman who had heard the question.
"Thank you, my man," replied Christy, beginning at once to consider how
this change would affect him.
"The Bronx is getting under way also," said the civil tar, who evidently
had some sympathy for the prisoner. "Probably she is also ordered
alongside. Twenty-five of us have been detailed to serve on board of
her, and I am one of them."
"Then I may see you again, my friend. Thank you for your information,
and will you give me your name?" added Christy.
"My name is Ralph Pennant; I have a sea-going name, and I suppose
that is the reason why I went to sea," replied the seaman, with a
good-natured laugh. "I have been the mate of a steamer, but I could not
get any better position than that of able seaman, and I wanted to be in
this stir-up."
"I have no doubt you will work your way up in good time," added Christy,
who saw that Pennant was an intelligent and reliable man, though it was
possible from the appearance of his face that he had been in the habit
of imbibing too much whiskey for his own good.
In a short time the Vernon was alongside the flag-ship. Christy had put
his uniform coat in his valise, and still wore the frock he had taken
from it. He had removed his linen collar, and put on a woollen shirt and
a seaman's cap, for he did not care to be taken for an officer among the
crew. He carried his valise to the vicinity of the forehatch, and looked
up through the opening to ascertain what he could of the movements on
board.
"There comes the Bronx," said a seaman standing at the head of the
ladder.
"Ay, ay; and she is coming alongside the Vernon," added another.
The store-ship had been made fast to the flag-ship, and at this moment
came a call for all hands to go aft. Christy could not endure the
suspense any longer, and taking his valise in his hand he went on deck,
just as the Bronx came alongside. Mr. Flint was on duty with a couple
of young officers, and gave the orders to make her fast to the Vernon.
Captain Battleton was going up the side of the flag-ship, followed by
Corny.
Christy put his valise in a convenient place, and then concealed himself
in the firemen's quarters under the top-gallant forecastle. He found a
place beneath a bunk which would effectually conceal him unless a very
thorough search should be made for him. But he only kept this place as a
resort in case of emergency, for he placed himself where he could see
out at the door; and it was a good location to overlook all that took
place on the quarter-deck where the officers were, and the waist where
the men had been assembled.
The second lieutenant was calling over a list of names, which Christy
concluded was the draft of seamen for the Bronx. Possibly Captain
Passford had used some influence in this selection, for all the other
hands were to be put on board of the flag-ship to be assigned to such
vessels as needed to be reinforced by the officers of the staff.
As the names were called the men passed over to the starboard side, with
their bags in their hands, for there was evidently to be no delay in
making the transfer. But it was a full hour before Captain Battleton
and Corny returned from the flag-ship. The prisoner on the forecastle
thought his cousin looked very complacent, and his return indicated
that his plot had not miscarried, and that the flag-officer had not
challenged the identity of the future commander of the Bronx.
Corny's first movement on board of the Vernon was to take the hand of
Mr. Galvinne, whom he appeared to be congratulating on a promotion or
appointment. The second lieutenant promptly handed his lists to the
third lieutenant, Mr. Winter, who proceeded with the calling of the
names. Corny and Mr. Galvinne immediately went below, and Christy
concluded that the officer he had spotted as the traitor had been
appointed to the little gunboat, either as first or second lieutenant,
and that they were making their preparations to go on board of her. In a
few minutes they appeared with the steward of the ward room carrying
their baggage.
Corny politely saluted Mr. Flint, the acting commander of the gunboat.
Mr. Galvinne was introduced, and there was plenty of bowing and formal
politeness. Corny presented his commission and orders for the inspection
of the officer in command, and for the present the formalities were
completed. Corny was evidently in command of the Bronx; but Christy
could not determine the position of Mr. Flint, and he watched his
movements with intense interest for some time.
The late acting-commander did not leave the deck, as he would have been
likely to do if he had been relieved and ordered to report on board of
the flag-ship, though he might have been superseded as executive
officer,--a position which he was clearly entitled to hold. A little
later, the draft of seamen were ordered to file on board of the Bronx.
Then the observer saw Mr. Galvinne, with a rather pompous gesture point
to the men who were coming on board, and say something he could not hear
to Mr. Flint. He had evidently directed him to receive the seamen as
they came on deck. This indicated that the late second lieutenant of the
Vernon had been appointed executive officer of the Bronx.
Christy felt that the time for action had come. Taking his valise in his
hand he joined the file of men, and cleverly inserting himself between
a couple of them, he went on the deck of the Bronx without being
challenged as to his right to do so. Doubtless Captain Battleton had
reported that he had a prisoner on board, though he had not had time to
tell the whole story of the investigation, which had probably been
postponed to a more convenient time. Mr. Flint went forward to receive
the seamen as they came on deck, and he ordered them to pipe below and
leave their bags there.
"Where is your bag?" asked Mr. Flint, as Christy, the actual commander
of the Bronx, passed him. "What are you doing with a valise?"
"I have no bag, sir," replied Christy in submissive tones.
"Find a bag, for we shall throw that valise overboard," added Mr. Flint.
"I don't think you will, sir, after the circumstances have been
explained."
Suddenly the officer started back, and began to look very sharply at the
presumed sailor. But the file pressed behind him, and Christy was too
glad to move with it to delay a moment longer. He went below to the
familiar quarters of the crew, and saw many of his old seamen still on
board, though many of them had been taken to reinforce other vessels.
Christy deposited his valise in a secure place near the door leading
into the steerage. All hands were on deck attending to the transfer of
seamen, even to the stewards. The way was clear, and the late prisoner
promptly decided what to do. He thought the captain's cabin was the
proper place for him, and he went there.