"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."
The victorious commander inquired for his aunt and cousins in the South, and informed him that his mother and sister were very well. He added that he should be obliged to send him to New York in the prize, and insured him a brotherly welcome at Bonnydale. He parted with his uncle pitying him very much; but he had chosen for himself which side he would take in the great conflict.