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Read books online » Fiction » Within The Enemy's Lines by Oliver Optic (beach books txt) 📖

Book online «Within The Enemy's Lines by Oliver Optic (beach books txt) 📖». Author Oliver Optic



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of the river, to the steamer?"

"They understand my signals, and they will all be ready within an hour to take a small steamer which will pick them up."

"But where is the steamer?"

"She is farther down the river. As you seem 65 to be a little sensitive to the fact that I have not consulted you in regard to the naval operations of this enterprise, I can tell you in a few words all there is of them," continued Captain Carboneer. "As you are aware, as soon as our plan was matured by you, I left Mobile with Lieutenant Haslett, though you knew nothing about him, for Nassau. We had no difficulty in getting out of the bay, for the blockade was not then enforced. At Nassau I engaged a couple of English engineers, and a few other officers, with thirty seamen, mostly English, who were looking for prize-money. I had to take my force to Quebec, for no steamer offered for New York. I sent them all here in small parties, and Haslett posted them along the river when I told him they would be needed to-night."

"I did not leave Mobile till two weeks later with Corny," added the major. "But I got here sooner than you did."

"You were more fortunate in finding a steamer. I believe I have a capital crew, though I shall obtain more men at Bermuda, or some other port. There are plenty of good English sailors who are willing to fight on either side if there is a good 66 showing for prize-money; and I have no doubt I shall capture a dozen vessels before we reach the Bermudas, which will fully satisfy them, especially as the government will pay the value of all vessels we are compelled to burn on the high seas."

"You will have the advantage over everything that floats, for I was told that the Bellevite made twenty knots an hour, and had done twenty-two," said Major Pierson. "At what time do you think you will get on board of the steamer?"

"By one or two in the morning, I hope; but it will depend upon the steamer Haslett engages, though he told me he had bargained for an old one with a walking-beam; but that will answer our purpose. I believe he had to buy her, though she was of no great value."

At a creek which appeared to be the rendezvous of the conspirators, the boat left the river; but there was no steamer, though quite a number of men had gathered there. Leaving the party in the boat to follow out the remaining details of their enterprise, which, by this time, in the absence of anything like an obstacle, they regarded as so many mere formalities, it becomes necessary to make another visit to the mansion of Captain 67 Passford. This gentleman had gone to the city upon important business connected with the fitting out of the Bellevite, and he had not returned when the clock in the great hall struck ten, which was at about the time Captain Carboneer and his companions went into the creek five miles down the river.

"There is no knowing when your father will come home, Florry," said Mrs. Passford, as she suspended her work on a stocking she was knitting for the soldiers. "But I can't imagine what has become of Christy. He never stays out as late as this unless he tells us of it beforehand."

"I am really worried about him, mother," replied the beautiful daughter, looking up from the stocking on which she was employed. "He went away in the Florence, and something may have happened to him."

"I think not, Florry: there has been no storm, or heavy blow, and he thinks he is as safe in his boat as he is on shore," added Mrs. Passford, with an effort to control the fears of the daughter. "He may have gone down to the city. He is very indignant at the delay in giving the order to have the steamer sent to the navy yard, and 68 wherever he is, I am confident he is doing something in connection with the steamer."

"I wish I knew whether the Florence was at the boathouse," continued Florry. "He said he was going out in the boat; but perhaps he did not. Perhaps he is with father."

"There is the front-door bell," added Mrs. Passford, with a start. "It cannot be your father or Christy, for both of them have latch-keys. Who could come here at this time in the evening?"

"Mr. Paul Vapoor," said the man-servant, who answered the bell.

The gentleman announced walked into the sitting-room without any ceremony, for he had long been a familiar visitor. He was dressed in the full uniform of a chief engineer of the navy. Removing his cap, he politely bowed to the two ladies; and any one who was looking might have seen that Miss Florry blushed a little when she saw him; and very likely if Major Pierson had witnessed the roses on her fair cheek, he might possibly have concluded that it would have been useless to postpone the capture of the Bellevite to enable him to fortify his position near her.

"I beg your pardon, ladies, for calling so late," 69 said Mr. Vapoor, as he drew a long envelope from his pocket. "But I thought Christy might wish to see what is in this envelope before he retired."

"Why, what is in it?" asked Mrs. Passford.

"Christy's commission as a midshipman in the navy."

"But Christy is not at home, and we are somewhat anxious about him," added the mother, stating the facts in regard to her son.

Paul Vapoor volunteered to go in search of him, and left the house.

70 CHAPTER VI THE CABIN OF THE FLORENCE

If Captain Carboneer had felt any especial interest in the Florence as a sailing yacht, he might have desired to see the cabin of the craft, which had always been the delight of Christy Passford. He had expended a great deal of his pocket-money upon the arrangement and furnishing of the cabin of his yacht, not only because he spent a considerable portion of his vacation hours in it, but because it had been a perpetual study with him to enlarge and improve it.

It is very difficult to get three pints of liquid into a quart measure, and it was a conundrum of this sort that Christy was studying upon when he tried to make a parlor, bedroom, and dining-saloon of the very limited space in the forward part of the Florence. Though he could hardly get the three pints into the quart measure, he had done the best he could, and succeeded to a rather remarkable 71 degree. But spite of the miracle which had been wrought in the cabin, Captain Carboneer did not even try the door of the apartment when he and his companions went on board of the yacht. He was so absorbed in the enterprise in which he was engaged, that his indifference to the miracle of the cabin may be excused.

Even the double doors of the cabin were of handsome wood, elaborately polished; and they were not secured with the usual appliance of a padlock, but were provided with an expensive mortise-lock, which could be operated upon either side. If Captain Carboneer had tried to open that door, he would have found that it was fastened; but perhaps he could not have discovered that it had been secured upon the inside. Unless, therefore, he had taken the trouble to break open the door, he could not have ascertained that Christy Passford was actually in the cabin.

Possibly, if he had opened the door by any means, he would not have discovered that the proprietor of the boat was in this dainty apartment, for the skipper had taken a great deal of pains to conceal himself so that he should not be seen, even if the intruders in the Florence had 72 succeeded in opening the doors without the aid of the key in his pocket. Though he had two very nice berths in the cabin, miraculously arranged as to space, Christy did not occupy one on the present occasion, for in that case the unbidden visitors would have seen him if their curiosity had led them to force the doors.

When the cook of the Florence, usually the skipper of the craft, was engaged in the practice of the culinary art, he seated himself on what looked like a box in front of the stove. But the interior of this box was really a part of the cabin, for it contained the feet of any one occupying the berth on the starboard side. The cookroom had no end of bins, lockers and drawers to contain the variety of provisions and stores necessary to get up a dinner for the skipper and his guests, when he had any. And even all these places could not contain everything that was needed on board. Under the two berths were large, though not very deep, lockers, one of which contained the jib-topsail of the craft, and other spare sails, while the opposite one was the fuel locker of the sloop.

As the boat had not been used for a long time in cruising, the fuel receptacle was empty, though 73 a spare gaff-topsail had been thrown into it. This locker was big enough to admit the body-corporate of the skipper. It was not a particularly clean place, for a portion of it had been economized for the stowage of the charcoal, which the skipper preferred to wood. But he did not rebel at the blackness of the retreat he had chosen, for he wore his boating dress, which was hardly stylish enough for a dude or a dandy.

But Skipper Passford did not crawl into this black hole for the fun of the thing. He had been spending his time in waiting for a movement to be made in regard to the Bellevite. He staid in the house all the forenoon, and, after lunch, he sailed down the river in the Florence, though with no object in doing so beyond passing the time. Not far from the beach where he had afterwards left the yacht, he discovered a boat rowed by two men with a third in the stern sheets.

The breeze was quite gentle, though the Florence would sail at a very tolerable speed when there was the least apology for a wind. She was doing so on the present occasion, and Christy had stretched himself out on the cushioned seat, with the spokes of the wheel where he could steer without 74 any exertion, or next to none. The idleness of his days since his return from the eventful cruise of the Bellevite seemed to have infected him with an unnatural indolence.

He felt as though he was rather more than half asleep when he saw the boat with the two oarsmen. It was going up the river, while he was going down. He had to luff a little to keep clear of the oars, but he did not move from his half-recumbent posture. When the boat was alongside, he glanced idly and carelessly at the person in the stern sheets. Instantly he was wide awake, though he did not change his position. The person looked like a gentleman, and Christy was sure that he had seen him before. A couple of minutes of earnest cudgelling of his brain assured him that he had seen the stranger in Nassau; that he was one of the many who wanted to purchase the Bellevite, ostensibly for a merchant vessel, but really for the Confederate navy.

After he had run a short distance farther down the river, Christy came about, the boat being some distance from him, but the gentleman soon landed and walked up the river on the shore, or very near it. In a short time, he was joined by another 75 person, whose form looked familiar to the skipper of the Florence. He could not identify him, for he was not near enough to him to see his face. A puff of air came from across the river, and the Florence darted ahead, and Christy was soon out of sight of the two strangers.

Near the boundary of his father's estate, he ran the yacht on the sandy beach, letting her strike the sand hard enough to stick where she was for half an hour, though she was not likely to get adrift, for the gentle breeze was blowing her farther on the shore as the tide rose.

Christy hauled down the jib of the sloop, and then seated himself, or rather reclined upon the cushions, though in such a position that he could see the shore, or any persons who came upon it. No one was

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