e necessity of blowing out your brains, if you have any,
as I should judge that you had not, after your refusal to accede to my
request in the face of the death that awaits you."

"I beg your pardon, Captain Flanger, but do you really purpose to blow
out the brains of your figure-head?" asked Christy, as coolly as though
no such threat had been suggested to him.

About this time Dave, who had taken care to keep in the front of the
table as he had been ordered to do, seized upon his feather duster, and
began to dust the divan on the starboard side of the cabin. Flanger was
so much occupied with the commander at that moment, that he was not
disposed to take his eye off him for an instant; for certainly the
situation had become critical, and he paid no attention to the steward.
Dave was a sort of a feather-duster fiend, and he used the article a
great deal of his time, apparently as much from habit as from
cleanliness.

"I should be extremely sorry to put a ball through your head, Captain
Passford, not only because it would disfigure a handsome face, but
because you may be of great use to me," replied the pirate.

"And because, in your present enterprise as you have outlined it, you
cannot get along without me," said Christy.

"In fact, you are more than half right. The sealed orders are not
absolutely necessary to me just now, and I shall not insist upon the
production of them for the present. Now, if you will seat yourself at
the table opposite me, I will dictate an order to you, which you will
oblige me by reducing to writing, and then by signing your name to it as
commander," continued Flanger, still toying with the heavy revolver.

Christy's curiosity was excited: he thought the order would throw some
further light on the plan of the pirate; and he seated himself. Captain
Flanger proceeded to dictate to him an order to the officer of the deck,
to the effect that his sealed orders directed him to cut out a rebel
privateer under the guns of Fort McRae; ordering him to head the Bronx
to the north-west for this purpose, and instructing him to call him as
soon as he made out the shore, Christy wrote it, and the pirate told him
to sign it.

"You must excuse me, Captain Flanger, but I object to signing such an
order," replied Christy, as he rose from his chair.

"Sign it, or you are a dead man!" exclaimed Flanger fiercely.

"Be it so; death before dishonor," replied the commander firmly.

At this moment Dave had w