"Mr. Dallberg!" shouted Percy; but the lieutenant did not show any signs of life till the messenger had shaken him smartly. "Major Pierson wants you down below."
The officer rubbed his eyes for a moment, and then rose from the sofa, and left the apartment. The summons for the lieutenant made it look to Christy as though something was in progress below. There was only one thing which the major could think of doing; and that was to capture the Bellevite, either by force or by strategy. He would have given a good deal to know what the plan was, but it seemed to him to be quite impossible to leave the wheel.
"How is the sick man, Percy?" asked Christy, when he found that the messenger was not disposed to leave the pilot-house.
"He is a good deal better: they have just given him another glass of brandy," replied Percy.
This statement did not agree with that of the major, who had told him the captain was likely to die, and that there was not a drop of brandy on board of the boat. The commandant of the fort had evidently been acting in the pilot-house with a purpose.
"Didn't your brother order you to stay on the forecastle, Mr. Percy?" asked Christy, when his companion came to the wheel on the opposite side from the helmsman.
"No: he said if I would help him, he would do what he could for me; and he told me to keep a lookout at this end of the tug. I can see ahead better here than I can down below," replied Percy, as he tried to turn the wheel. "I believe I could steer this thing."
"I know you could, Percy. Do you see the Bellevite?"
"Of course I do: I'm not blind."
"She has stopped her screw, and is not going ahead now," added Christy, as he let go the spokes of the wheel, and proceeded to instruct his pupil.