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Presently she fired her heavy midship gun, the shot from which would have made havoc if it had hit the mark. It was soon evident that the enemy's speed had been overrated, for the Chateaugay gained rapidly upon her. A shot from her heavy gun knocked off the upper works on one side of the Eleuthera, but did no other damage.
He strolled to the quarter-deck, where he found the captain directing his night-glass towards the Ionian, which showed her port light on the starboard hand, indicating that the Chateaugay was running ahead of her. The commander called the second lieutenant, and gave him the order for the chief engineer to reduce the speed of the ship.
"I apprehend no difficulty in doing that, for the Dornoch is good for fourteen knots an hour, and most of the Federal fleet cannot make more than twelve." Christy was very glad to hear this acknowledgment of the speed of the intended cruiser, for it assured him that the Chateaugay could outsail her.
In half an hour more, for the Chateaugay appeared to have stopped her screw, the boat was within speaking distance, and the hail of Christy was answered. When she came alongside the steamer, the accommodation ladder was rigged out, several seamen came on board, and the voyagers hastened to the deck of the ship. Captain Chantor grasped the hand of the lieutenant, and then of the detective.
Carlin was appointed prize-master, with a sufficient crew; and at daylight the next morning he sailed for his destination. The boat which had been sent for the mate and two men belonging to the Snapper put them on board of the steamer; but the captain and the passenger were retained on board of the Chateaugay.
"In a few days more no doubt you will be able to report for duty on board of the Bellevite." "I shall not be sorry to be on duty again, and especially in the Bellevite," replied Christy, as he went to his stateroom to finish his night's sleep. The next day the Chateaugay overhauled the Snapper; but all was well on board of her, and the ship proceeded on her course.
While he was waiting impatiently to ascertain what the Chateaugay would do next, Percy Pierson came on deck looking very pale, for it had been reported at breakfast that he was very sea-sick. "How are you, Christy?" asked the Southerner. "I am very well, I thank you." "Haven't you been sea-sick?" asked the invalid. "Of course not; I never was sea-sick."
The Chateaugay was going ahead at full speed when the two gentlemen retired from the quarter-deck. She stopped her screw within hail of the Cadet. Her crew were clearing away the wreck of the pilot-house; but the destruction of her steering gear forward did not permit her to keep under way, though hands were at work on the quarter-deck putting her extra wheel in order for use.
"I had no opportunity to speak to him, for he averted his gaze and moved off in another direction as soon as he saw me. He looked pale and thin, as though he had recently been very sick." "Poor Uncle Homer!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "He has been very unfortunate. The last time I saw him, I conducted him to my father's place at Bonnydale, after he had been a prisoner on board of the Chateaugay.
No change was made in the course, and at the beginning of the second dog watch the craft from which the smoke issued could be seen with the naked eye. She was headed to the south-west, and it was evident that her course would carry her to the westward of the Chateaugay.
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