"Punch, go to the galley, get a beefsteak, a plate of toast, and a cup of coffee. Set out the captain's table, and call this gentleman when it is ready."
"Yes, sir," replied Punch, who was a very genteel colored person.
The colonel attempted to protest, but the surgeon would not hear him. He remained with the planter, whom he already regarded as a patient, and though he could not say anything to comfort him, he talked him into a pleasanter frame of mind. Punch set the table, and in due time brought the breakfast. The doctor sat down opposite to him at the table, and actually compelled him to eat a tolerably hearty meal. He was decidedly less gloomy when he had finished, and it was plain to his companion that his empty stomach was responsible for a portion of his depression of spirits.
The surgeon had remained on board of the prize till the order to get under way was given, and then Captain Breaker sent for him; but the two medical gentlemen had disposed of most of the wounds among the Confederate crew. As the English engineer had reported, the machinery and boilers of the Tallahatchie were in good condition, and the two steamers went on their course towards the entrance to Mobile Bay, where French had been ordered to anchor the West Wind, at full speed, though neither was driven; but the log showed that they were making about eighteen knots.
After the brief talk with his uncle, Christy had waited for him to return to the deck, as he supposed he would after what the captain had said to him; but he did not appear. In fact, Colonel Passford was too much cast down by the capture of the two vessels, and the loss of his fortune thereby, that he was not disposed to see any person if he could avoid it.
"Don't you think you had better turn in, Mr. Passford?" asked the commander, as he halted in his walk at the side of the lieutenant.
"I have been waiting here to see my uncle; for I thought, after what you said to him, that he would come back," added Christy.
"I sent Dr. Linscott down to see him, for he looks so pale and feeble that I thought he must be sick. The surgeon reported to me half an hour ago that he had made him eat his breakfast against his will, and he was feeling better and more cheerful. He thinks your Uncle Homer's trouble is entirely mental, and he does not feel like seeing any person," answered the commander.
"What mental trouble can he have?" asked Christy, as he gazed into the face of the captain, wondering if his father's brother was insane.
"The colonel has shipped a vast amount of cotton intending to use the proceeds of its sale to purchase ships for the Confederacy; and he has lost most of them, for you captured quite a number of them when you were in command of the Bronx. I have no doubt he was interested in the cargoes of the prize and the West Wind; and the capture of these two vessels involves a fearful loss. I believe that is all that ails him," the captain explained. "Doubtless he feels as kindly towards his nephew as ever before in his life; but he does not care to see him just now."