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Baskirk was making the arrangements for her departure for New York, Christy accompanied the captain to the cabin. Colonel Passford had learned the fate of the Watauga; and he sat at a table, his face covered with both hands.
"I appoint him third lieutenant temporarily." "That will amount to their being made ensigns when you go north again if they prove to be worthy of promotion," added the executive officer, with a chuckle. "That was what happened to Baskirk and Amden." "If they are worthy, I shall certainly do the best I can for them," added Christy, gaping.
"My orders will depend somewhat upon the steamer astern of us; and if you will excuse me a few moments, I shall soon be ready to issue them," replied Christy, as he took his spy-glass from the brackets, and directed it to the approaching steamer from the west. "What do you make of her, Mr. Baskirk?"
"I am very impatient to read my orders, and I shall be called at one o'clock for that purpose," added Christy, as he began to plank the deck on the weather side. The wind was from the north-west, and quite fresh. The men had had their suppers, and he ordered Mr. Baskirk to make sail. The St. Regis was bark rigged, and could spread a large surface of canvas.
Regis was still rushing with unabated speed towards her prey, and a minute or two more would decide whether or not she was to be a prize or a blazing hulk on the broad ocean. "Lay him aboard on the port side, Mr. Baskirk!" "The two boats are there, Captain, as you can see," replied the executive officer. "Board on the port side, Mr.
Vapoor is keeping things warm in the engine and fire rooms." "That is taking an economical view of the subject," added Mr. Baskirk, laughing at the commander's utilitarian views. "If we continue to fire into her, we must swing to every shot we send, and that would take so much from our speed," argued Christy. "We are as sure of her as though we already had her in our clutches.
There are plenty of officers in the navy who would like to command her when she is altered over into a cruiser." "You are quite right, Captain Passford; and there are some of them on the deck of the St. Regis at this moment," said the first lieutenant, laughing. "Heave the log, Mr. Baskirk," said the captain.
If he had headed to the south when he first made out the St. Regis, he would have improved his chances, but he would only have given us a longer chase. Let Captain Bristler out of the brig, Mr. Baskirk; we will see if he can behave himself any better; but I will not allow any man to swear at me if I can help myself." A little later Captain Bristler came on deck in charge of the ship's corporal.
The orders were passed rapidly through the line of officers till they reached the quartermaster conning the wheel. The captain continued to listen for another quarter of an hour. "Steady!" he shouted aloud, and left his position on the bowsprit to take another on the top-gallant forecastle. "We are close aboard of her, Mr. Baskirk! Have your grappling irons ready!
The captain of the Scotian retreated a pace as Christy stepped up in front of him, and gracefully lifted his cap to the unfortunate commander. "I beg your pardon, sir, but did I understand you to say that this young gentleman is the commander of the steamer alongside?" demanded the captain, looking at Christy from head to foot. "He is the commander, sir; Captain Passford," added Baskirk.
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