"Who is Captain Flanger?" asked Christy.
"You have him on board, and perhaps he had better answer the question himself," replied Colonel Passford with a smile.
"It was a superfluous question, for I know all about him. He is the captain of the Floridian, though that would not make him a combatant unless he fights his ship; and that is what he did on board of the Magnolia. I regard him and his companions, except the skipper of the sloop, as prisoners of war. You proved by your words and conduct that you were not a combatant, and you are at liberty to depart when you please."
The young commander did not feel entirely sure that his ruling was correct, for a naval officer must be learned in a great variety of subjects which he had not had time to study; but he was willing to take the responsibility in the present instance.
"It is easy enough to say that I may depart; but how shall I do it?" added the planter with a smile. "I cannot swim ashore."
"I will put you ashore in a boat at the nearest land when the fog clears off," replied Christy.
"The nearest land is an island, and there is hardly anything like a village on the entire Bay of St. Andrew's. The region is deserted now, and I might wander about there for a month, till I starved to death, before I could get to a settled region."
"I shall not compel you to land, and you can remain on board till I report to the flag-officer of the Eastern Gulf squadron, off Pensacola, if you desire to do so; but you will be subject to his decision and not mine then."
"I prefer that to starving to death in this region," replied the colonel.
"Very well, uncle Homer, that is settled," added Christy. "Now, how are aunt Lydia and Gerty? I hope they are well."