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Between the decks of the Vernon, he could do nothing; he could not even see what was going on, though he had no doubt the captain was in the act of reporting to the flag-officer. Probably Corny would go off in the first boat to report for 117 duty, and receive his orders. The seamen who were simply passengers on board of the steamer, were below in considerable numbers, gathering up their bags, and preparing for the transfer to the flag-ship, or to the Bronx, for there were no other vessels near to receive them.

ace333 ฝาก ถอน ออ โต้ "Why not, my son?" "No doubt of it; for to-morrow morning by four bells we shall be off the passes of the Mississippi, and our mission may be up Lake Pontchartrain, or at Ship Island. But let that matter rest, for in three hours and a half we shall know all about it. I want to ask you about the man you call the Russian." As Christy viewed the matter, there appeared to be no obstacle to the success of Corny's scheme for the capture of the Bronx, unless it was Mr. Flint, who might or might not discover that the new commander was an impostor. If his old associate saw the two cousins together, he would have no difficulty in determining which was his former commander; seeing Corny alone he might be deceived. With the flag-officer, who had seen Christy but once or twice, he was not likely to suspect that Corny was an impostor. "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." Christy became rather impatient because the Bronx did not get under way; but he concluded from such sounds as came to his ears that she was taking in shot, shells, and powder, as well as stores and supplies. At any rate, neither Corny nor his first lieutenant came into the cabin, so far as he could ascertain. But he had not been in his hiding-place an hour before he heard a noise in the adjoining apartment. It was not the commander, for the noise was an occasional rapping; it was not an unfamiliar sound to him, for he had often heard it before when he lay in his berth. Dave was a remarkably neat person, and he was always dusting the cabin and stateroom when he had nothing else to do. He was sure that the rapping was caused by the steward's feather duster. "But he did not." "Mark under water twelve!" shouted the man with the hand lead. "I am entirely satisfied, Mr. Galvinne; and here is my hand," added Corny, who doubtless felt that he had fully vindicated himself.