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While the crews were making the boats ready, and Mr. Camden was selecting the extra men for them, as he was instructed to do, Christy gave the executive officer a brief account of the capture of the sloop, and an epitome of the information he had obtained from Bornhoff. "What am I to do, Captain Passford?" asked Mike, who was watching the proceedings on deck with the most intense interest.
"Don't you know me, Uncle Job?" "'Pears like I do; I reckon you's Massa Cap'n Flanger." "Not exactly; but I'm his man, Mike Bornhoff." "Jes' so; you was born ob de debbil," replied the old negro, rising in his bed, and showing all his remaining teeth in an expansive smile. "He remembers me," said Mike turning to the lieutenant. "We have struck the right man.
"I cannot say that I was; the cause of the South is religion itself, and I am there every time. Who told you that I had been engaged in smuggling?" "It dropped from some of the men that were captured in the sloop." "It could have dropped only from Mike Bornhoff, for he is the only one who knew anything about it.
Colonel Passford was over there, and he saw you on board of the Havana." "Then we understand each other, Mr. Bornhoff," added Christy. "Perfectly, Captain Passford; and I would trust you with my freedom, which is the dearest thing on earth to me.
"What is your name, my man?" asked Christy, as he looked over the stalwart form of the skipper of the Magnolia. "Michael Bornhoff," replied the prisoner. "Are you a Russian?" asked the commander, inclined to laugh at this singular name of one of the proscribed race. "No, sir; but I was named after a Russian sailor Captain Flanger picked up in Havana.
A sharp lookout had been kept, and some flickering lights had been reported. The weather had become cloudy since noon, but there was no fog and no wind. "You will let Mr. Pennant command this expedition, Mr. Flint," said Christy. "He will take the first cutter, with ten men, including Quartermaster Vincent and Bornhoff." The third lieutenant was sent for, and his instructions were given to him.
"Perhaps not; but I should not care to have the Bronx sunk by a columbiad in the attempt to find out the strength of the fort." "It is possible that the Russian knows something about this region," suggested Mr. Flint. "I will have a talk with him," replied the commander, as he left the bridge. Seating himself on the quarter-deck, he sent for Michael Bornhoff, who presently reported to him.
"I know all that, captain, like I know my name." "Then I will look upon you as an able seaman until you are formally enlisted. Mr. Flint, this man is Michael Bornhoff; he is an able seaman and a pilot in these waters. I think you had better take him with you, for he is fully informed in regard to the Floridian, which you are to bring out. Let him have pistols and a cutlass," said Christy.
"You are on board of the United States steamer Bronx, and I am the commander of her," replied Christy, desiring to encourage Michael Bornhoff to tell all he knew about the expedition in the Magnolia. The skipper took his cap off, and bowed very low to Christy when he realized that he was talking to the principal personage on board of the gunboat.
The prisoners appeared to be quite as much interested in the proceedings on deck as the ship's company, and closely observed everything that was done. Michael Bornhoff was quite excited, and walked the deck hurriedly, as though he was in search of something to do; but he was very careful not to go near the place where Captain Flanger was made fast to the rail. "Mr.
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