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40 The lieutenant gazed earnestly into the face of the sailor, for he was willing to admit to himself the possibility of a mistake. Walsh, or whatever his name might have been, was a man of robust form, not more than an inch or two short of six feet in height. He was clean-shaved, with the exception of his upper lip, whereon he sported a rather long dark brown mustache, of which a Broadway dandy might have been vain. As a servant, he had been rather obsequious, though Christy had observed that he used very good language for one in his menial position. As the officer examined his form and features, and especially regarded the expression in general, he was satisfied that he could not be mistaken.

การพนันออนไลน์เพื่อเงิน "See that your pistols and cutlasses are ready for use," said the third lieutenant, in a tone loud enough to be heard by the crew only. "They are your confederates in the plot, Corny. Who do you suppose they are? Jeff Davis is not one of them. The most important one, not even excepting yourself, cousin, is Mr. Galvinne, late first lieutenant of the Bronx." Captain Battleton seated himself in the armchair which Corny had abandoned, and placed a quire of paper before him as though he intended to take notes of the proceedings. Christy was not at all disturbed by the formal aspect the affair was assuming, for he felt entirely confident that poor Corny would be a prisoner of war at its conclusion. He had his commission and his orders in his pocket, and he was positive that they would vindicate him. 344 In ten minutes more the Bronx quivered under the discharge of the great midship gun, and a cloud of smoke rose above her deck. Captain Battleton returned the pressure as heartily as it had been given, and departed from the gunboat. The commander gave the order to the first lieutenant to get under way; and the fasts were cast off from the flag-ship. The Bronx backed away from her, came about, and was ready to proceed on her voyage to the destination as yet unknown on board of her. "I see you are; but you decline to permit the surgeon to dress your wound. I have no more time to fool with you, and the men will put you on a berthsack forward. If you want the surgeon to attend to your wound, you have only to say so."