is stateroom.
Christy had not failed to commend his executive officer in the highest
terms. The commodore suggested that Christy could not be very kindly
disposed towards Captain Battleton of the Vernon, on account of his
decision against him in the matter of his identity.

"On the contrary, I do not see how he could have done otherwise,
commodore, and I have expressed to him my friendly feeling," replied
Christy. "I think he is a devoted and faithful officer, sir."

[Illustration: Dave Receives his Appointment as Steward.--Page 364.]

"He desires employment on more active duty than the command of a
store-ship, and I am instructed to give him such a position if I have
one at my disposal," added the flag-officer.

"I certainly hope you will do so, sir, if possible."

"I propose to appoint him executive officer of the Bronx."

"I am sure Mr. Flint could not have a better man."

In due time this appointment was made, and Captain Flint, on the
recommendation of Christy, was entirely satisfied to receive him as
his first lieutenant.

"One thing more, Captain Passford," continued the flag-officer; "the
ship's steward of the Mercidita has been very sick for three weeks, and
has applied for a sick-leave. I shall be obliged to transfer Mr. Nawood
of the Bronx to his place."

"I can mention just the right person to take Mr. Nawood's place," said
Christy eagerly.

"You seem to have a man ready for every vacant position. Who is he?"
asked the commodore with a pleasant smile.

"His name is David Davis; but he is not a relative of the president of
the Southern Confederacy, for he is a mulatto. He has rendered very
important service on several occasions, and there is not a truer or
braver man on board of the Bronx, or any other ship of the squadron,"
replied Christy with enthusiasm.

The commodore shook his head, but he looked very good-natured. Christy
narrated the part Dave had taken in the capture of Captain Flanger in
the cabin, and in recovering possession of the Bronx when it was shown
that the officers were rebels. Mr. Flint was sent for. He was quite as
earnest in his plea for the steward as the commander had been, and the
written appointment of Mr. David Davis was in Christy's hands when the
flag-officer took his leave of the wounded commander.

"Dave," said the wounded lieutenant, the next time the steward came into
the room, "no more 'massa,' no more 'moggywompus,' no more 'done do it.'
You know better tha