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ป้อ ก เด้ง Colonel Passford was reclining on the divan when the commander entered the cabin; but he rose to his feet as soon as he saw his nephew. Christy thought he looked thinner and paler than when he had last seen him. He was now only forty-two years old, but he looked like a man of fifty. "His name is David Davis; but he is not a relative of the president of the Southern Confederacy, for he is a mulatto. He has rendered very 364 important service on several occasions, and there is not a truer or braver man on board of the Bronx, or any other ship of the squadron," replied Christy with enthusiasm. "I should not be willing to trust them. I know they were the intimate associates of Rockton and Warton, for they were in council together on board of the Vernon. In carrying out our orders, we may have a fight either with a battery or with some vessel, and we must not have any black sheep in the crew,—one who might speak a word or make a sign that would ruin all our calculations," added Christy. "Good, Corny!" exclaimed Christy, dropping upon the divan of the cabin and laughing heartily. "This is very strange," said Captain Battleton, fixing his gaze upon the planks on which he stood, possibly considering whether he or his passenger was dreaming or out of his head.