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Updated: June 19, 2025
"I don't wish to be rude with a gentleman as polite as yourself, Captain Passford; but you interrupted my remarks by rising from your chair," said Captain Flanger, with the revolver still poised in his hand, while he dropped the other with the handcuff upon it at his side.
The affair had culminated in a sort of duel in the cabin, in which Christy, aided by his faithful steward, had hit Flanger in the nose with his revolver. The ruffian had sworn to be revenged at the time, and he seemed to have chosen the present occasion to wreak his vengeance upon the destroyer of his nasal member.
"He has a revolver in his left coat pocket." The three officers promptly obeyed the order, and laid violent hands on Captain Flanger, Mr. Flint taking the weapon from his pocket. They seized him by the collar of his coat, and the executive officer held his left arm, with the handcuffs on the wrist. The victim of the affray still held on to his nose, though Mr. Camden took possession of the arm.
"I beg your pardon, Captain Flanger, but do you really purpose to blow out the brains of your figure-head?" asked Christy, as coolly as though no such threat had been suggested to him. About this time Dave, who had taken care to keep in the front of the table as he had been ordered to do, seized upon his feather duster, and began to dust the divan on the starboard side of the cabin.
The Snapper's case was settled, therefore, outside of the courts. Captain Flanger perished in his wickedness, and Percy Pierson never reached his mother in Mobile. But it was weeks before the news of the disaster reached the Chateaugay and the Bellevite. Christy did not mourn the loss of his great enemy, and he was sorry only that the young man had not lived long enough to become a better man.
"Yes, I do!" blustered Captain Flanger recklessly. "Are you a British subject?" "No, I am not; but I am not attempting to run the blockade." "For what port are you bound?" "Havana." "Have you a clearance for that port?" "For Havana, and a market." "But you have no more idea of going to Havana than you have of going to China," added the captain of the Chateaugay.
He had been compelled to act promptly; and he had not aimed his revolver particularly at the nose of his dangerous assailant. Flanger was engaged in a foolhardy enterprise; and the mutilation of his nasal member had resulted very naturally from his folly. His enemy was probably a good sailor, and he was a bold ruffian.
It was not prudent for him to do anything, and at the present stage of the proceedings he could do nothing but temporize with his resolute foe. "I beg your pardon, Captain Flanger; but do I understand that you intend, single-handed and alone, to capture the Bronx?" asked the commander, with a smile of incredulity on his face.
He braced himself up to meet the onslaught of the ruffian. Flanger charged upon him, and attempted to plant a blow with his fist in the face of his intended victim; but the young officer parried it, and was about to follow up the movement with a blow, when Monsieur Rubempré rushed in between them, struck the assailant such a blow that he went over backwards.
"That was the folly of Captain Flanger; and I protested the moment I discovered what had been done," added the planter, who seemed to be anxious to relieve himself of all responsibility for the discharge of the muskets. "Were you in charge of the sloop, uncle Homer?" "I was not; I had nothing to do with the sloop. She belonged to Captain Flanger." "Who is Captain Flanger?" asked Christy.
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