"Do you feel able to get up, captain?" asked he, as the sufferer put on his coat.
"I was exhausted and worn out by being on duty all night, and I had a faint turn; but I am subject to them. If you are the son of the man that owns that steamer, you will be able to understand me," replied the captain; and his feeble condition seemed to make him somewhat timid.
"I am the son of Captain Passford, who owns the Bellevite," added Christy.
"I should not have been down here now, if I could have got away; but they seem to hold on to me, for the reason that I am a pilot of these waters. I was brought up in the pilot-house of a steamer; and they say I know the bottom of this bay better than any other man, though I have been here but two years."
"Then you are not in sympathy with the secession movement?"
"In sympathy with it? I hate the very sound of the word! I will tell you about it."
"Don't be long about it, for I have an affair on my hands," interposed Christy, though he was not sorry to have the advice of one who knew something about the situation in the vicinity.
"Only a minute. Major Pierson sent a glass of brandy to me, and I was fit to take my place in the pilot-house then, for I felt a great deal better; in fact, I was as well as usual, and I am now. But I had an idea what the major was about, and I did not want to take any part in getting your father's steamer into trouble. That's the whole of it; all I want is to get on board of her, and get out of this country."
"All right, Captain Pecklar!" exclaimed Christy, delighted at the frankness of his companion. "The steamer, I mean the tug, is already in my possession."
"In your possession! What do you mean by that?" asked the captain with a look of astonishment.