"There appears to be no alternative," replied the commander very gloomily: and he did not attempt to explain how his misfortune had come upon him. He had counted upon the fog to insure his salvation; but it appeared to have been the primary cause of his capture, though he certainly had not been as vigilant as a commander should be. Christy came on board, and Mr. Baskirk introduced him. "I am glad to see you, Captain Passford," said the commander as a matter of form. "I was absolutely sure that you would chase me to the westward, sir; and I had not the slightest expectation of encountering you on this course." "I took my chances of finding you in this direction rather than in the opposite one," replied Christy. "It appears that I correctly interpreted your strategy, though I dared not even mention my plan to my executive officer." "I have fallen into my own trap, and being captured as I was, is disgraceful to me," added Captain Winnlock, as his name proved to be; and the steamer was the Watauga. Christy's opinion of the capture did not differ from that of the commander of the prize, but he made no remark upon it. The Watauga was loaded with cotton, which was to be sent to England from Nassau, while the steamer was to go on a cruise in search of defenceless merchantmen of the United States. "I have a passenger on board, Captain Passford, who bears the same name that you do, and possibly he may be one of your relatives, though he is by no means a Federalist," said Captain Winnlock. "Indeed! May I ask his name?" replied Christy very much surprised. "Colonel Homer Passford, sir." "My uncle again!" Mr. French, the master, had already been appointed prize-master; and while Mr. 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 have brought down to see you, Colonel Passford, your nephew," said the commander; and his uncle sprang to his feet, and gazed at his brother's son as though he had been a spectre. "Christy!" he exclaimed; but he could say no more, and groaned in his anguish. "He is a lieutenant-commander now, and captain of the steamer St. Regis, formerly the Tallahatchie. The Watauga is now unfortunately the prize of his ship," added Captain Winnlock, as he retired from the cabin. "Captured again by my nephew," groaned the unhappy colonel. "I believe you are the emissary of the Evil One, sent to torment me." "I am sent by the opposite Power, Uncle Homer," replied Christy very gently. "But I am more astonished to see you here than you ought to be to see me, for I go wherever the fortunes of war carry me." "I was still trying to serve my country in her misfortunes. I raised another cargo of cotton among my friends, and it is now on board of this vessel. It has fallen into your hands, where most of my cotton has gone."