ay! You can't fool this colored person."

"I tell you the truth, Dave; but things are mixed," added Christy.

"I believe you; they be mixed if you be the captain when I done seen him
on deck just now."

"Sit down on the floor, Dave, and I will tell you all about it,"
continued Christy, though the difficulty of convincing the steward was
not unexpected.

"Let me see your face before you told me anything," persisted Dave, as
he pulled out one end of the trunk, and dropped upon his knees where he
could see under the berth.

Christy crawled to the front of the berth, and thrust his head out into
the stateroom in as natural a position as he could place it.

"Wollywogs! You look like Massa Christy, for sure," exclaimed Dave, as
he gave himself up to a study of the face presented to him. "But the
captain looks like Massa Christy too."

"You have never seen my cousin Corny, I believe, Dave; but he looks like
me. Now sit down, and I will tell you all about it."

"I never saw Massa Corny; but I done hear enough about him when I was at
Bonnydale. Show me your knife and your watch, Massa Christy."

He complied with the request, as he saw that it was a very simple means
of identification, for the steward had some skill as a mechanic, and
he had frequently sharpened the knife, and knew the repeater of the
lieutenant from having seen it so often, for it was a very peculiar
watch. Dave's last doubt vanished when these articles were produced.

"But the other Massa Passford looks just like you," added Dave.

"If you saw us together you would not mistake him for me," replied
Christy, as he proceeded to explain the situation to the steward, upon
whom he depended for very important assistance.

He related the incidents which had occurred at Bonnydale, the loss of
his commission and orders, and the decision of Captain Battleton against
him, concluding with the statement that he was then a prisoner of war,
but had made his escape from the place where he had been required to
remain.

"A prisoner of war!" exclaimed the steward. "The commander of the ship a
prisoner!"

"That is exactly the situation, Dave. Can you tell me what they are
doing on deck?" asked Christy, who began to feel more hopeful of the
future.

"The Bronx is taking in provisions, stores, and ammunition. They say the
captain has his orders, but I don't know about that."

"Can you tell me what position Mr. Flint has on board?"

"He's just what he was before,