to the methods of fitting out vessels for running
the blockade.

Captain Chantor was expecting to fall in with the Ovidio, even before
the return of his two passengers. He did not believe the authorities at
Nassau would permit her to take on board an armament at that port; but a
rendezvous had probably been arranged, where she was to receive her guns
and ammunition. But the only safe channel for any vessel to get to the
deep sea from Nassau was by the one that had received the name of
Providence. This channel is a continuation of what is called "The Tongue
of the Ocean," which extends over a hundred miles south of New
Providence, a hundred and fifty fathoms in depth, and bordered by
innumerable cays, reefs, and very shoal water.

South of Great Abaco Island, this channel, from thirty to forty miles
wide, divides into the North-east and North-west Channels, and all
vessels of any great draught can safely get out to sea only through one
of them. It was evident enough to Captain Chantor, who was familiar with
the navigation of these seas, that the Ovidio must come out through one
of the channels indicated. Christy had talked with the commander of the
Chateaugay in regard to these passages, and knew that it was his
intention to keep a close watch over them.

He could not be sure that the steamer in the distance was the
Chateaugay; but the more he recalled what had passed between himself and
Captain Chantor, and considered the situation, the stronger became his
hope that it was she. He was sure that she had come about, and he
reasoned that she had done so when her commander ascertained that the
steamer he had sighted laid her course through the North-west Channel.
This was as far as he could carry his speculations.

Without understanding the situation as well as did his prisoner, Captain
Flanger seemed to be nervous and uneasy. He watched the distant sail for
a long time, sent for his spy-glass and examined her, and then began to
plank the deck. When he came abreast of Christy he stopped.

"Do you see that sail off to the eastward, Mr. Passford?"

"I see it now, Captain," replied the prisoner, as indifferently as
possible, for he felt that it would be very imprudent to manifest any
interest in the matter.

"Can you make out what she is?" continued the captain.

"I cannot; she must be eight or ten miles from us," replied Christy,
as he glanced to the eastward.

"I shouldn't wonder if that was one of your Yankee gunb