Part 24 (1/2)
She had not the two tall funnels carried by river steamers, and that point was enough to settle her character. There could be no doubt she would have been a blockade runner, if there had been any blockade to run at the entrance to the port. Christy decided to board the steamer between the two keys, the channel pa.s.sing between Snake and Seahorse.
The first cutter fell back so that Christy could communicate with Mr.
Flint, and he instructed him to take a position off the Snake Key, where his boat could not be discovered too soon, and board the steamer on the port side, though he did not expect any resistance. Each cutter took its position and awaited in silence the approach of the blockade runner. The only thing Christy feared was that she would come about and run back to the port, though this could only delay her capture.
The steamer, as well as the officers could judge her in the distance, was hardly larger than the Bronx. They concluded that she must be loaded with cotton, and at this time it was about as valuable a cargo as could be put on board of her. She would be a rich prize, and the masts of the schooners were still to be seen over the tops of the buildings. She must have chosen this hour of the night to go out, not only on account of the tide, but because the darkness would enable her to get off the coast where a blockader occasionally wandered before the blockade was fully established. Her paddle wheels indicated that she had not been built very recently, for very nearly all sea steamers, including those of the United States, were propelled by the screw.
As Mr. Amblen had predicted the steamer moved very slowly, and it was all of a quarter of an hour before she came to the Seahorse Key. At the right time Christy gave the word to the crew to ”Give way lively!” and the first cutter shot out from the concealment of the little island, while Flint did the same on the other side of the channel. Almost in the twinkling of an eye the two boats had made fast to her, and seven men from each boat leaped on the deck of the steamer, cutla.s.s in hand. No guns were to be seen, and the watch of not more than half a dozen men were on the forecastle; and perhaps this was the entire force of the sailing department.
”What does all this mean?” demanded a man coming from the after part of the vessel, in a voice which Christy recognized as soon as he had heard half of the sentence.
”Good morning, Captain Lonley,” said Christy, in the pleasantest of tones. ”You are up early, my friend, but I think we are a little ahead of you on this occasion.”
”Who are you, sir?” demanded Lonley; and Christy had at once jumped to the conclusion that he was the captain of the steamer. ”I have heard your voice before, but I cannot place you, sir.”
”Fortunately for me, it is not necessary that you should place me this time,” replied Christy. ”It is equally fortunate that I am not compelled to place you again, as I felt obliged to do, on board of the Judith in Mobile Bay.”
”Pa.s.sford!” exclaimed Captain Lonley, stepping back a pace in his astonishment.
”Pa.s.sford, late of the Bellevite, and now executive officer of the United States steamer Bronx, formerly the Teaser, privateer,” answered Christy, in his usual cheerful tones. ”May I inquire the name of this steamer?”
”This steamer is the Havana,” replied Captain Lonley. ”May I ask you, Mr. Pa.s.sford, in regard to your business on board of her?”
”I have a little affair on board of her, and my duty compels me to demand her surrender as a prize to the Bronx.”
”Caught again!” exclaimed Captain Lonley, stamping violently on the deck in his disgust at his misfortune, and it was the third time that Christy had thrown him ”out of a job.”
”The way of the transgressor is hard, Captain Lonley,” added the commander of the expedition.
”Transgressor, sir!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the captain of the Havana. ”What do you mean by that, Mr. Pa.s.sford?”
”Well, captain, you are in arms against the best government that the good G.o.d ever permitted to exist for eighty odd years; and that is the greatest transgression of which one can be guilty in a patriotic sense.”
”I hold no allegiance to that government.”
”So much the worse for you, Captain Lonley; but we will not talk politics. Do you surrender?”
”This is not an armed steamer, and I have no force to resist; I am compelled to surrender,” replied the captain as he glanced at the cutla.s.ses of the men from the Bronx.
”That is a correct, though not a cheerful view of the question on your part. I am very happy to relieve you from any further care of the Havana, and you may retire to your cabin, where I shall have the honor to wait upon you later.”
”One word, Mr. Pa.s.sford, if you please,” said Captain Lonley, taking Christy by the arm and leading him away from the rest of the boarding party. ”This steamer and the cotton with which she is loaded are the property of your uncle, Homer Pa.s.sford.”
”Indeed?” was all that Christy thought it necessary to say in reply.
”You have already taken from him one valuable cargo of cotton; and it would be magnanimous in you, as well as very kind of a near relative, to allow me to pa.s.s on my way with the property of your uncle.”
”Would it have been kind on the part of a near relative to allow his own brother to pa.s.s out of Mobile Bay in the Bellevite?”
”That would have been quite another thing, for the Bellevite was intended for the Federal navy,” protested the Confederate captain. ”It would have been sacrificing his country to his fraternal feelings. This is not a Confederate vessel, and is not intended as a war steamer,”