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918vip

918vip

āļāļēāļ 29 āļšāļēāļ— āļĢāļąāļš 100 The order went to the quartermaster, and the vessel began to dart ahead as though she fully realized what was expected of her. There was nothing to impede her progress, for the fort was as silent as though it had ceased to exist. A trusty hand was heaving the lead in the fore-chains, for the Bronx was not yet within musket-shot range of the island. "On deck, sir," reported Ralph, touching his cap to the commander, as Mr. Flint descended the steps to the ward room. "It may be he was; I don't know about that. You say that we have met before, but to save my life, I cannot recall the time, and I am sorry to add that I do not identify your face as that of any person I ever saw before. I have the pleasure of introducing myself to you as Lieutenant Christopher Passford, commanding the United States steamer Bronx." Christy had deposited his valise in a place where it was not likely to be seen unless a search was made for it. There was no one in the ward room to obstruct his advance to the captain's cabin. He had served as acting-commander of the vessel in a voyage from New York to the Gulf, and been the executive officer on board for a short term, and he was perfectly at home in every part of her. In the conspiracy on his last voyage in the Bronx, Pink Mulgrum had concealed himself under the berth in the captain's stateroom, where Dave, the cabin steward, had discovered him, though he might have remained there a month if his hiding-place had not been suspected. "I hope we shall do as well as we did at Cedar Keys," replied the first lieutenant, when he had given the order to come about to the quartermaster. 325 "With what was she loaded?" "I have already recognized the union officer, and therefore you must be the Confederate."

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