THE MEETING WITH THE BELLEVITE AT NIGHT
Christy looked at his watch when the sail was reported to him, and found
that it wanted ten minutes of eleven. The Bronx had been steaming for
just about three hours, and must have made about forty miles, as he
hastily figured up the run in his mind.
"How was the weather when you left the deck, Mr. Flint?" asked the
commander.
"Clear as a bell, and bright starlight," replied the executive officer.
"Not a night for blockade runners," added the captain.
"No, sir."
"The sail is reported on the port bow, which looks as though she might
be coming in from sea," continued Christy, as he went into his stateroom
with his navy revolver in his hand.
He put the formidable weapon back into the drawer from which he had
taken it; but the lesson of the evening had made a strong impression on
his mind. Though he had permitted Captain Flanger to believe that he was
not at all disturbed by his presence in his cabin, and had kept up the
humor with which the intruder had introduced himself, yet he had felt a
sense of humiliation through the whole of the scene. It was a new thing
to be confronted by an enemy in his own cabin; and the privateersman,
armed with two heavy revolvers, had all the advantage, while neither he
nor the steward had a weapon of any kind.
With even an ordinary revolver in his hip pocket, he would not have been
helpless, and he might have saved himself without requiring this service
of the steward. Opening his valise, he took from it a smaller revolver,
and put it in his hip pocket, which he had never used for any other
purpose; and he resolved not to be caught again in an unarmed condition,
even when no danger was apparent. In action he carried a navy revolver
in each of his hip pockets.
Thus prepared for any emergency, though none might come for years, he
went on deck, and made his way to the bridge, where he could get the
best view of the approaching sail. He obtained his first sight of the
vessel as soon as he reached the bridge, and saw that the sail was a
steamer, much larger than the Bronx. She carried no sail, for the wind
was from the west; but the commander soon realized that she was moving
at great speed.
"We must be about forty miles off the station of the blockaders before
the entrance to Mobile Bay," said Christy, after he had thought the
matter over for a moment.
"I should think so," replied the first lieutenant.
"That sail appears to be headed for the station. She is a large steamer,
and I judge by the way she is coming up with us that she is very fast,"
added Christy with some anxiety in his tones.
"She must be a steamer of fifteen hundred tons, and perhaps more," said
Mr. Flint, after he had looked at her through his night glass.
"In that case she is too big for us to fight her, and too fast for us
to run away from her; and Captain Flanger may be a free man in a few
hours."
"It does not follow that we shall have to fight her or run away from
her," added the first lieutenant, still gazing at the approaching
steamer through his glass. "I don't believe she is a Confederate vessel.
The rebels do not buy steamers as big as that one in England."
"But they may have captured her," suggested Christy.
"I may be mistaken, Captain Passford, but I think that steamer is the
Bellevite," added Mr. Flint.
"I hope so," replied Christy, who did not like the idea of fighting
or trying to run away from a craft three times as strong as the Bronx.
"Have the ensign set at the peak, Mr. Flint." And a quartermaster was
sent aft to attend to this duty.
The strange sail continued to approach; and, little by little, the first
lieutenant, who had sailed in the Bellevite several years, identified
her as that steamer. It was probable that she had chased some vessel,
and was now returning to her station. As she came nearer, she fired a
gun for the Bronx to come to; and when within hail of her, stopped her
screw.
"Steamer, ahoy!" came from her in the well-known voice of Mr. Blowitt,
formerly the commander of the Bronx, and now executive officer of the
Bellevite.
"On board the steamer!" replied Mr. Flint from the bridge.
"What steamer is that?" called Mr. Blowitt.
"The United States steamer Bronx, under sealed orders. What steamer is
that?"
"The United States steamer Bellevite. We will send a boat to you,"
returned Mr. Blowitt.
The big steamer, as she certainly was compared with the Bronx, started
her screw again, and came within less than half a cable's length of the
little gunboat, for the water was very still, with a gentle breeze from
the westward. The boat was dropped into the water; and in a minute or
two it was at the accommodation ladder of the Bronx, when a couple of
officers mounted the side.
"I am glad to see you, Captain Passford," said Mr. Blowitt, who was
properly received when he stepped down upon the deck.
"I am just as glad to see you, Mr. Blowitt," replied Christy, taking the
offered hand of his old friend.
"Mr. Vapoor, chief engineer of the Bellevite," said the executive
officer, presenting Christy's greatest crony on earth, for he had held
back in deference to his superior officer.
"The happiest moment I have had since I saw you last!" exclaimed the
engineer, as he grasped the commander of the Bronx with his right hand,
while he threw his left around the neck of his friend, and would have
hugged him if Christy had not gently avoided such a "gush" in presence
of the watch on deck. "I wish you were back in the Bellevite, Christy."
"I wish I were myself," replied the commander, in a tone so low that
none but the visitors could hear him.
"No, you don't," interposed Mr. Blowitt. "You are commanding a little
gunboat, though you are only eighteen."
"I thought I should like it, but I find I do not as well as I expected,"
answered Christy.
"You don't like it!" exclaimed the engineer of the Bellevite.
"I do not, Paul; I think it wears upon me, though I am willing to do my
duty wherever I am ordered."
"If you wish to get back into the Bellevite, of course you can do so,
for it is not every fellow that wears shoulder-straps who has such a
backing as you have. You have only to speak, and anything reasonable is
yours. But how are all at home, Christy?"
"Florry was very well the last time I saw her, not more than two weeks
ago, and she talked a great deal about you, Paul," answered her brother,
partly in a whisper.
"Did she?" added Paul with a gush. "Then she has not forgotten all about
me. I almost wish I were not an engineer, for then I might be sent home
once in a while in charge of a prize."
Christy had only time to tell very briefly the story of the adventure
with Corny, and the capture of the Floridian, which he did for the
purpose of introducing a matter of business in the line of his
profession. The officers from the Bellevite asked him a great many
questions, though he felt obliged to cut them short before they were
half done with them.
"You must excuse me, Mr. Blowitt, for I am sailing under sealed orders,
and the commodore hurried me off as soon as I returned with the Bronx
from St. Andrew's Bay; and I do not know that my mission admits of any
delay," said Christy. "I have a prisoner on board, and I want to get rid
of him, for he is a dangerous character;" and he briefly related the
incident of the evening with Captain Flanger.
"He is a tough sinner," added the first lieutenant of the Bellevite.
"Of course I cannot take him without an order from Captain Breaker; but
I will return to the ship, and put the matter before him."
"I don't know where I am ordered, and this Flanger is capable of making
mischief if I should happen to get into a tight place," added Christy.
"I suppose you are returning to the station off Mobile Bay, and you can
dispose of him better than I can."
"If Captain Breaker decides to take your prisoner, I will send a boat
for him so as to make no unnecessary delay for you. Mr. Vapoor may
remain, and return in the boat I send, for I am confident the commander
will accede to your request. Good-by, Captain Passford," said Mr.
Blowitt, offering his hand to Christy, who pressed it most earnestly.
"What is the Bellevite doing off here, so far from her station, Paul?"
asked Christy.
"We chased a good-sized steamer out last night, and she gave us a long
run; but we picked her up, and she is now on her way to New York. She is
good for eighteen knots an hour, and the Government is sure to buy her
when she is condemned. Mr. Ballard, the second lieutenant, has gone in
her as prize-master. He is in poor health, and will get leave of absence
till he is better; but I do not believe he will ever come down here
again. Were you in earnest in what you said about not liking your
present position, Christy?"
"I don't say that I absolutely dislike it, for I mean to be happy in
whatever place my duty may call me. The responsibility weighs heavy on
me, and I should prefer to be in a subordinate position," replied
Christy very seriously. "I can't sleep as I used to."
"I am confident there will be a vacancy in the Bellevite, for Mr.
Ballard will not come back: Dr. Linscott said as much as that to me,"
added the engineer. "You can have his place if you want it."
"But there is a third lieutenant who may deserve promotion," suggested
Christy.
"Captain Breaker is dissatisfied with him, and he will get him out of
the ship, at any rate, as soon as the opportunity presents itself. I
advise you to write to your father, and tell him plainly just how you
feel," said Paul.
"I am not sure that Captain Breaker would be willing to receive me as
his second lieutenant," Christy objected.
"I am sure he would," protested Paul.
"I don't want him to take me simply because my father desires him to do
so," answered the young commander, shaking his head.
"Then let your father give him the choice of two or three officers. That
will settle the matter."
"I don't know, Paul; I will think of the matter, and write to you as
soon as I have time. There comes the boat. Mr. Flint, have the prisoner
brought on deck to be transferred to the Bellevite."
In a few minutes the two stout sailors who had removed him from the
captain's cabin appeared on deck, dragging Captain Flanger after them,
for he would not walk, and did all he could with his hands made fast
behind him to embarrass his conductors.
"Captain Passford, I protest agailst this treatment of a prisoler of
war," howled the privateersman.
"All right, Captain Flanger."
"I say I am abused, and dragged from below like a dog."
"If you stand up and walk like a man, the dog will not be dragged."
"Boat alongside, sir," reported a quartermaster.
"Put him into the boat," added Christy.
The prisoner was certainly a hideous-looking object, his face daubed
with blood, and his nose a mass of tangled flesh; but he was put into
the boat in spite of his struggles. Paul Vapoor bade his friend an
affectionate adieu, and went over the side. The Bronx started her screw
at once.