sion of his companion,
and he left the hotel. He walked slowly down Parliament to Bay Street,
which is the principal business avenue of the town, running parallel to
the shore. It was lined with shops, saloons, and small hotels on one
side, and with the market and wharves on the other. He desired to see
what he could of the place, and pick up all the information that would
be serviceable to an officer of the navy.

[Illustration:
"His blood was boiling with indignation at the unprovoked assault."
Page 207.]

As he passed a drinking-saloon a torrent of loud talk, spiced with
oaths, flowed out from the place. Before he had fairly passed the door a
violent hand was laid upon him, seizing him by the collar with no gentle
grasp. The ruffian had fallen upon him from the rear, and he could not
see who it was that assaulted him. The man attempted to drag him into
the saloon; but he was evidently considerably affected by his potations
in the place, and his legs were somewhat tangled up by the condition of
his brain.

Christy attempted, by a vigorous movement, to shake off his assailant;
but the fellow held on, and he found it impossible to detach his grasp.
His blood was boiling with indignation at the unprovoked assault, and
his two fists were clinched so tight that iron could hardly have been
harder and tougher. He levelled a blow at the head of the ruffian, who
still kept in his rear, and delivered it with all the power of his
strong arm.

The assailant reeled, and released his hold, for his head must have
whirled around like a top under the crashing blow it had sustained.
Christy turned so that he could see the ruffian. He was a stalwart
fellow, at least fifty pounds heavier than the young lieutenant. His
nose was terribly disfigured, not by the blow of the young officer, for,
twisted as it was, there was no sign of a fresh wound upon it. One
glance was enough to satisfy Christy as to the identity of the ruffian.

It was Captain Flanger, whose steamer Christy had captured, with a boat
expedition sent out from the Bronx, in St. Andrew's Bay. He was a
prisoner, but had escaped, and invaded the cabin of the Bronx, where he
attempted to make Christy sign an order which would have resulted in
delivering the steamer to the enemy. The heroic young commander,
preferring death to dishonor, had refused to sign the order. The affair
had culminated in a sort of duel in the cabin, in which Christy, aided
by his faithful stew