Part 11 (1/2)

”I believe you have sailed a schooner, French,” said Christy, when he had taken the man to the quarter.

”Yes, sir; I was mate of a coaster for three years, and I should have become master of her if the war had not come, and I felt that I ought to go into the navy, though I haven't got ahead much yet, as I expected I should; but I am satisfied to fight for my country where I am.”

”That is patriotic; and I hope a higher position will be found for you.

But we have not time to talk about that now,” continued Christy. ”It may be necessary or advisable for Mr. Graines and myself to leave the West Wind at any moment now. In that case I shall place this vessel in your charge, and you will take her off where the Bellevite was moored last night, and come to anchor.”

”Thank you, sir; and I will endeavor to do my duty faithfully,” replied French, touching his cap.

”Now call the men aft, and I will explain the matter to them.”

The lieutenant explained the situation, and directed the other five seamen to respect and obey the man he had selected as captain. Then he directed French to cast off the stops from the foresail and mainsail, and have the jib and flying-jib ready to set at a moment's notice.

”I don't think Captain Sullendine can get out of his stateroom, where he has been confined, or Bokes out of the deck-house; but if either of them should do so, you must secure them as you think best,” continued Christy. ”Do you fully understand your orders, French?”

”Perfectly, Mr. Pa.s.sford; and I will do my duty as well as I know how,”

answered the able seaman, who, like many others in the service, deserved a better position.

The new officer and crew went to work on the sails, and in a few minutes they were ready to be set. Another bank of fog was rolling up, in which the two vessels would soon be involved. But the Tallahatchie was in a position where it was plain sailing now, and her future troubles would all come from the blockaders.

”There you are!” exclaimed the engineer, as the peal of a gun boomed over the water from the westward. ”The steamer has been seen by a blockader, and she will catch it now.”

”I don't believe that was one of the Bellevite's guns,” added Christy.

”Captain Breaker would not take a position over to the westward, for that would give him the outside track, and he always goes at anything by the shortest way.”

”We have the fog again for the next ten or fifteen minutes. The blockader that fired that shot must have got a sight at the steamer, and she is still pegging away at her. We may get knocked over by our own guns,” continued Graines.

”There is no danger at present. She can't hit anything in this fog except by a chance shot.”

”And one of them sometimes does the most mischief. The fog is heavier just now than it has been at any time during the night. I can't see the Tallahatchie just now.”

”It is blacker than a stack of blackbirds,” added Christy. ”I am confident that we are at least a mile south of the lighthouse, and we will take advantage of the gloom to hoist the mainsail, and then the foresail if it holds as it is now;” and he gave the order to French, who was a.s.sisted by the engineer in the work.

The lieutenant took the wheel, and sent Lines to a.s.sist the others.

The blockader to the westward continued to discharge her guns; but her people could see nothing, and her solid shot began to fall astern of the West Wind, and the Tallahatchie took no notice of her or her guns.

Christy saw that the fog was lifting again, and this would reveal to the steamer ahead what he had been doing. Besides, he had gone in tow as long as he intended. Graines reported the two sails as set.

”Stand by to hoist the jib!” he shouted, deeming it no longer necessary to conceal his movements.

”What are you doing there?” demanded the officer, who seemed to be in charge of the after part of the steamer; and his tones, with the flood of profanity he poured out, indicated that he was in a violent fit of anger.

”I reckon we won't tow any farther,” replied Christy, who was still at the wheel, and the officer yelled loud enough for him to hear at the helm; but French repeated his answer.

”All ready to hoist the jib,” Graines reported.

”Cast off the towline!” shouted Christy at the top of his lungs. ”Hoist the jib!”