His enemy was probably a good sailor, and he was a bold ruffian. Christy had captured the steamer loaded with cotton, in which he was all ready to sail from St. Andrew's Bay; and doubtless this was his first reason for hating the young officer. But no soldier or sailor of character would ever think of such a thing as revenging himself for an injury received in the strife, especially if it was fairly inflicted. The business of war is to kill, wound, and capture, as well as for each side to injure the other in person and property to the extent of its ability. "Want a boat, sir?" asked a negro, who saw that Christy was gazing at the Snapper, even while he was thinking about his quarrel with Captain Flanger. "Where is your boat?" asked the officer. "Right here, sir," replied the boatman, pointing to the steps at the landing-place. "The best sailboat in the harbor, sir." "I want to sail about this bay for a couple of hours," added Christy, as he stopped on the upper step to examine the craft. It was built exactly like the Eleuthera, though not quite so large. "I saw you looking at the steamer there," said the boatman, pointing to the vessel in which Christy was interested. "Do you wish to go on board of her, sir?" "No; I desire only to sail about the harbor, and perhaps go outside the bar. Can you cross it in this boat?" "Yes, sir; no trouble at all about crossing it in the Dinah. Take you over to Eleuthera, if you like." "No; I only want to sail about the harbor, and look at the vessels in port," replied Christy. While he was looking at the boat, he became conscious that a young man, who was standing on the capsill of the wharf, was looking at him very earnestly. He only glanced at him, but did not recognize him. He had taken the first step in the descent of the stairs, when this person put his hand upon his shoulder to attract his attention. Christy looked at him, and was sure that he had seen him before, though he failed to identify him. "How are you, Christy?" said the stranger. "Don't you know me?" "Your face has a familiar look to me, but I am unable to make you out at first sight," replied the young officer, more puzzled as he examined the features of the young man, who appeared to be about twenty years old. "You and I both have grown a great deal in the last two years, since we first met on this very wharf; but I am Percy Pierson, and you and I were fellow-voyagers in the Bellevite." "I think you have changed in that time more than I have, or I should have recognized you," answered Christy very coldly, for he was not at all pleased to be identified by any person. "You are a good deal larger than when I saw you last time, but you look just the same. I am glad to see you, Christy, for you and I ran a big rig over in Mobile Bay," continued Percy, as he extended his hand to the other.