the beach
where he had afterwards left the yacht, he discovered a boat rowed by
two men with a third in the stern sheets.

The breeze was quite gentle, though the Florence would sail at a very
tolerable speed when there was the least apology for a wind. She was
doing so on the present occasion, and Christy had stretched himself out
on the cushioned seat, with the spokes of the wheel where he could steer
without any exertion, or next to none. The idleness of his days since
his return from the eventful cruise of the Bellevite seemed to have
infected him with an unnatural indolence.

He felt as though he was rather more than half asleep when he saw the
boat with the two oarsmen. It was going up the river, while he was going
down. He had to luff a little to keep clear of the oars, but he did not
move from his half-recumbent posture. When the boat was alongside, he
glanced idly and carelessly at the person in the stern sheets. Instantly
he was wide awake, though he did not change his position. The person
looked like a gentleman, and Christy was sure that he had seen him
before. A couple of minutes of earnest cudgelling of his brain assured
him that he had seen the stranger in Nassau; that he was one of the many
who wanted to purchase the Bellevite, ostensibly for a merchant vessel,
but really for the Confederate navy.

After he had run a short distance farther down the river, Christy came
about, the boat being some distance from him, but the gentleman soon
landed and walked up the river on the shore, or very near it. In a short
time, he was joined by another person, whose form looked familiar to the
skipper of the Florence. He could not identify him, for he was not near
enough to him to see his face. A puff of air came from across the river,
and the Florence darted ahead, and Christy was soon out of sight of the
two strangers.

Near the boundary of his father's estate, he ran the yacht on the sandy
beach, letting her strike the sand hard enough to stick where she was
for half an hour, though she was not likely to get adrift, for the
gentle breeze was blowing her farther on the shore as the tide rose.

Christy hauled down the jib of the sloop, and then seated himself, or
rather reclined upon the cushions, though in such a position that he
could see the shore, or any persons who came upon it. No one was in
sight, and he had no one to watch. The swash of a great steamer passing
in the channel made his boat roll heavily for