"Thank you; I shall be very glad to do so. I suppose you are a Yankee still, engaged in the business of subjugating the free South, as I am still a rebel to the backbone," replied Percy, laughing very pleasantly.
"But you are not in the rebel army now, any more than you were at that time," added Christy in equally good humor.
"I am not. You know all about my army experience. My brother, the major, sends me a letter by every chance he can get, and has offered to have my indiscretion, as he called it, in leaving the camp, passed over, if I will save the honor of the family by returning to the army; but my father insists that I can render better service to the cause as his assistant."
Christy led the way down the steps, and the two seated themselves in the bow of the boat. The skipper shoved off after he had set his sails, and the boat stood out towards the Snapper, for he could hardly avoid passing quite near to her.
"What are you doing in Nassau, Christy?" asked Percy.
This was a hard question, and it was utterly impossible to make a truthful reply without upsetting the plan of Mr. Gilfleur, and rendering useless the voyage of the Chateaugay to the Bahamas.
"I am in just as bad a scrape as you were when you were caught on board of the Bellevite," replied Christy after a moment's reflection.
"Are you a prisoner of war?"
"How could I be a prisoner in a neutral port like Nassau? No; I do not regard myself as a prisoner just now," answered Christy very good-humoredly.
"But you have been a prisoner, and you have escaped in some vessel that run the blockade. I see it all; and you need not stop to explain it," said Percy, who flattered himself on his brilliant perception.