Steamboats -- Juvenile fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Naval operations -- Juvenile fiction; War stories
"I see you are; but you decline to permit the surgeon to dress your
wound. I have no more time to fool with you, and the men will put you
on a berthsack forward. If you want the surgeon to attend to your wound,
you have only to say so."
"It is a bad wound though not a dangerous one," said Dr. Connelly, who
had approached the victim of his own conspiracy near enough to obtain a
view of the injured nose. "The ball has torn away the middle of the
member, and it hangs in pieces from the wound."
"I have had enough of him; remove him to the quarters," added Christy.
"You took splendid aim, Captain Passford," said the surgeon, smiling.
"I did not aim at his nose, but at his head in a general way," replied
the commander. "I fired in a hurry, and I meant to reach his brains, if
he had any. Take him away; I am disgusted."
"The fortules of war are agailst me, Captail Passford; but if you ever
fall ilto my halds, I will cut your dose off cleal to your face," howled
the prisoner, boiling over with wrath.
"Take him away!" added Christy with energy; and the two seamen dragged
him out of the cabin, leaving only Mr. Flint, the surgeon, and the
steward in the cabin. "Dave," he continued, stepping up to the last, and
taking him by the hand, "you have behaved remarkably well, and I thank
you for the good service you have rendered to me and the cause of your
country."
"I done do what I thought was right, Captain Passford, though folks like
that fellow think a poor nigger is no account," replied the steward,
putting every tooth in his head on exhibition.
"Perhaps he will change his mind after this. If you have not saved my
life, Dave, you have saved my self-respect, for your prompt action,
quite as soon as it was prudent for you to act, redeemed me from any
further submission, and I expected to throw away my life rather than
sign that order. I think he would not have killed me, for that would
have blocked his game; but he would have wounded me in two minutes more.
I thank you with all my heart, Dave, and I shall not forget what you
have done."
"Thank you, Captain Passford," replied the steward.
"I do not fully understand this affair, captain," said Mr. Flint.
"Sit down, take a seat, doctor, and I will tell you all about it. You
may go forward, Dave, and report to me the condition of the prisoner,"
added Christy, as he seated himself at the table, and began to tell the
story of the intruder's visit to his cabin.
He finished the narrative, and the officers were discussing it when
there was a knock at the door.
"Sail on the port bow, sir," reported a quartermaster.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE MEETING WITH THE BELLEVITE AT NIGHT
Christy looked at his watch when the sail was reported to him, and found
that it wanted ten minutes of eleven. The Bronx had been steaming for
just about three hours, and must have made about forty miles, as he
hastily figured up the run in his mind.
"How was the weather when you left the deck, Mr. Flint?" asked the
commander.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account