Lieutenant Passford was on board of the Vernon, and he had no further
solicitude in regard to a literal obedience to his orders. The commander
of the steamer, whoever he was, did not appear to have noticed the new
arrival, and no one gave any attention to Christy. He walked forward
to take a better view of the crew, and the seamen touched their caps
to the shoulder straps of a lieutenant with which he had been careful
to ornament his coat.
The men at work in the waist finished their task as Christy was
returning from his promenade, with the intention of presenting himself
to the commander. Among those who saluted him in proper form was Walsh.
He seemed to be a little diffident about encountering the son of his
late employer, and turned his face away as he touched his cap. But the
officer had fully identified him, and spoke to him, calling him by name.
The sailor made no reply; but Christy had placed himself directly before
him, and he could not escape without a breach of discipline.
"I spoke to you, Walsh," said the lieutenant, in the tone he had learned
to use when he intended to enforce respect and obedience.
"I beg your pardon, sir; my name is not Walsh," replied the sailor, with
all the deference the occasion required.
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