ecially no right to revenge himself for
an injury received while his assailant was the aggressor. He had done
his duty to his country. He had been compelled to act promptly; and he
had not aimed his revolver particularly at the nose of his dangerous
assailant. Flanger was engaged in a foolhardy enterprise; and the
mutilation of his nasal member had resulted very naturally from his
folly.

His enemy was probably a good sailor, and he was a bold ruffian. Christy
had captured the steamer loaded with cotton, in which he was all ready
to sail from St. Andrew's Bay; and doubtless this was his first reason
for hating the young officer. But no soldier or sailor of character
would ever think of such a thing as revenging himself for an injury
received in the strife, especially if it was fairly inflicted. The
business of war is to kill, wound, and capture, as well as for each side
to injure the other in person and property to the extent of its ability.

"Want a boat, sir?" asked a negro, who saw that Christy was gazing at
the Snapper, even while he was thinking about his quarrel with Captain
Flanger.

"Where is your boat?" asked the officer.

"Right here, sir," replied the boatman, pointing to the steps at the
landing-place. "The best sailboat in the harbor, sir."

"I want to sail about this bay for a couple of hours," added Christy,
as he stopped on the upper step to examine the craft.

It was built exactly like the Eleuthera, though not quite so large.

"I saw you looking at the steamer there," said the boatman, pointing to
the vessel in which Christy was interested. "Do you wish to go on board
of her, sir?"

"No; I desire only to sail about the harbor, and perhaps go outside the
bar. Can you cross it in this boat?"

"Yes, sir; no trouble at all about crossing it in the Dinah. Take you
over to Eleuthera, if you like."

"No; I only want to sail about the harbor, and look at the vessels in
port," replied Christy.

While he was looking at the boat, he became conscious that a young man,
who was standing on the capsill of the wharf, was looking at him very
earnestly. He only glanced at him, but did not recognize him. He had
taken the first step in the descent of the stairs, when this person put
his hand upon his shoulder to attract his attention. Christy looked at
him, and was sure that he had seen him before, though he failed to
identify him.

"How are you, Christy?" said the stranger. "Don't you know me?"

"Your fa