The Tallahatchie had been promptly condemned, and the fact that she was a superior vessel for war purposes, and her great speed compared with most vessels in the navy, had caused her to be appropriated to the use of the government. Orders had been given weeks before for her thorough repair and better armament, all of which had been hastily accomplished. Christy had not been to New York since his return; and for some reason of his own, his father had said very little to him about the service, perhaps believing that his son had better give his whole mind to the improvement of his health and strength. "I hope you have found a vessel by which I can return to the Eastern Gulf squadron, father," said Christy one morning, with more earnestness than usual. "I begin to feel guilty of neglect of duty while I am loafing about home." "Don't trouble yourself, my son," replied Captain Passford, who seemed to be rather exhilarated about something. "You shall return to your duty in due time, though not in exactly the same position as before." "Am I to be appointed to some other ship, father?" asked Christy, gazing earnestly into the captain's face to read what was evidently passing in his mind, for it made him very cheerful. "You are to sail in another ship, Christy; but wait a minute and I will return," said Captain Passford, as he left the sitting-room and went to his library. Opening his safe he took from it a ponderous envelope bearing official imprints, and returned to the sitting-room. Handing it to his son, he dropped into an arm-chair and observed him with close attention. "What's this, father?" asked the young officer. "I have had it about three weeks, but waited for your entire recovery before I gave it to you," replied the captain. "Open it." Christy did so, read it, and then in his excitement, dropped it on the floor. It was his commission as a lieutenant-commander. CHAPTER XXV THE PRINCIPAL OFFICERS OF THE ST. REGIS Christy Passford was astounded and confounded when he read the commission. He modestly believed that he had already been promoted beyond his deserving, though no one else, not even his father, thought so. He had not sought promotion at any time, and he had been hurried through four grades in something over three years. He was the heir of millions, and he had given all his pay to wounded sailors and the families of those who had fallen in naval actions. His share of the prize money resulting from the captures in which he had taken part as commander or in some subordinate position had made him a rich man; and with his mother's assistance, he was disbursing no small portion of his wealth among those who had been deprived of their support by the casualties of the war. He had not expected or even hoped for any further promotion, though the newspaper had extolled to the skies his brilliant exploit in the Gulf.