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āđāļĨāđāļ āļāļē āļāļē āļĢāđāļē āļ§āļąāļ āļĨāļ° 500 CHAPTER XXX THE ATTACK UPON THE FORT "I was in New York, preparing to come on board of the Vernon." "But what are we going to do, Massa Christy?" asked the steward, dazzled by the situation. "I don't blame him, if you call him a black rascal," added Christy. "But you need not call me by your own name any longer, cousin, for it will not help your case any more. Your game is played out, and you have been beaten with your own weapons. When you want to play another Yankee trick, you had better remember that you are not a Yankee, and you are not skilled in the art of doing it." The Vernon continued on her course, and in another hour the pilot had been discharged. Christy had puzzled his brains over the events of the day and the night before without being able to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion. He was extremely anxious to see the officer who had taken his name and assumed his character, as he was to obtain all the information within his reach. His reflections assured him that some one had chosen the rôle of an impostor for the purpose of accomplishing some treasonable object, and he was anxious to fathom the mystery for his country's sake rather than his own.