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He did not even know the name of this gentleman, and he saw no one to introduce him formally; but the ensign in command had doubtless received an order to take him as a passenger to the Gulf. Before he reached the sacred limits of the quarter-deck, Christy met a quartermaster, of whom he inquired the name of the commander.
"De ossifers and men ob de Reindeer will go asho' when you done took de steamer; don't you see dat, massa?" "What shall I do with you then?" asked Christy, as he handed him two sovereigns and two shillings. "T'ank you, sar; dat's a pile ob money!" exclaimed Quimp, as he looked with admiration upon the coins. "It is what I agreed to give you. But what shall I do with you now?
Blowitt was severely, if not dangerously wounded in the action with the battery up the bay, where we had some sharp work," added Mr. Walbrook. "That is very bad news to me," replied Christy, who had known the wounded man as second officer of the Bellevite when she was his father's yacht, and had served under him when she became a man-of-war, and as his first lieutenant in the Bronx.
And utterly beyond belief as it was, ten minutes later Elder was surveying himself in the unspeakable rags of the hobo, and the latter, before him, was ridiculously attired in his own natty, smaller garments. Having then removed Elder's fancy Stetson and clamped his own greasy and battered christy down to the clerk's ears, the tramp had one further humiliation.
Old Christy and the game-keeper have watched many a night, in hopes of entrapping him; and Christy often patrols the park with his dogs, for the purpose, but all in vain.
Not far ahead, Christy saw many lights; and he concluded that this must be the location of the mansion of Colonel Pierson, the father of Percy, and for some reason best known to himself, the sergeant desired to avoid going very near it. A march of a short distance farther across the field brought them to a road, which they followed till they came to a wagon drawn by two horses.
It was a long, rambling programme, scrawled in huge, black-paint characters on a white planed board, hung where everyone could read it. There were comic songs and Christy Minstrel choruses by people who had developed vocal talent for this occasion only, and a screaming display of conjuring tricks by an amateur of legerdemain who had forgotten the art, if ever he had mastered it.
"May I ask where I am to be taken in the boat, Mr. Dawbin?" asked the prisoner, suppressing as much as he could the excitement that disturbed him. "I give you leave to ask, but I cannot answer you," replied the mate. "If you intend to put me on board of that steamer, it can do no harm to say so, I think," added Christy. "If you will excuse me, Mr. Passford, I cannot answer any questions.
Whether the captain of the Raven had ordered his men to scuttle the steamer, or to fire her in several places, Christy could not know; and he did not much care, for he was ready to meet either emergency. The St. Regis was bearing down on her victim with a reduced speed.
Christy hurried to the deck as soon as he had made the change, and met the commander on the quarter-deck.
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