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Captain Flanger and Percy Pierson were transferred to her, and she sailed the next day; but she encountered a tremendous storm on the Atlantic coast, and was totally wrecked on Hetzel Spit, near Cape Canaveral. The prisoners were put into one boat, which upset, and all in it were drowned, while the other boat, in charge of Lieutenant Carlin, succeeded in reaching the shore of Florida.
I see by the telltale over our heads that the Bronx is headed to the south-west, which is doubtless the course you were ordered to take by the commodore." "The telltale is honest, and tells no lies," replied Christy. "Where are you bound, Captain Passford?" asked Flanger, in a careless and indifferent manner, as he looked about the cabin. "I don't know." "Sealed orders?"
Flanger was so much occupied with the commander at that moment, that he was not disposed to take his eye off him for an instant; for certainly the situation had become critical, and he paid no attention to the steward. Dave was a sort of a feather-duster fiend, and he used the article a great deal of his time, apparently as much from habit as from cleanliness.
"Did you learn his name?" asked Christy, greatly interested in what the officer was about to say. "No, sir, I did not; I heard no one call him by name. He was in the cuddy forward when we boarded the Magnolia; and when he came out of the little cabin, the first thing he said was, 'It was very unwise for you to order the men to fire upon the boat. It was a great mistake, Captain Flanger."
"You can bet your worthless life she is going to run the blockade, and you may be sure that she will get in too," added Captain Flanger, who came into the cabin at the moment the question was asked. "By the way, Christy, from what prison in the Confederacy did you make your escape?" "If you will excuse me, I prefer to answer no questions." "Just as you please, my boy.
"You must excuse me, Captain Flanger, but I object to signing such an order," replied Christy, as he rose from his chair. "Sign it, or you are a dead man!" exclaimed Flanger fiercely. "Be it so; death before dishonor," replied the commander firmly.
"Do you know what steamer that is, Mr. Passford?" asked Captain Flanger, coming aft, apparently for the purpose of finding him. "How should I know, Captain?" asked Christy. "I thought you might know her by sight." "I could hardly be expected to know all the ships in the United States navy by sight, Captain, for there are a great many of them by this time."
He began to cherish a very lively hope that the sail would prove to be the Chateaugay. Captain Flanger remained on deck all the forenoon, and every hour that elapsed found him more nervous and excitable. "I reckon that's a Yankee gunboat astern of us, Mr. Passford; but I am going to get away from her," said the captain, as they sat down to dinner.
Then he attempted to call for assistance, but a handkerchief was promptly stuffed into his mouth, and the ruffians hurried him out through a narrow gateway to an unfrequented street, where a carriage appeared to be in waiting for them. "Drive to the beach back of Fort Montague," said one of them. It was the voice of Captain Flanger.
"But what has the steamer stopped for?" asked Percy, looking about him. "Captain Flanger seems to think that vessel over there is a United States man-of-war." "Will she capture the Snapper?" asked the sufferer, looking paler than before. At this moment a boat was lowered from the davits into the water, and Christy was invited by the mate to take a seat in the stern sheets.
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