Christy was sorry he was not to hear any more
of the conversation; but he felt that he had made some progress in his
work. He had obtained the names of two of the men, and ascertained that
one of the officers in the ward room was a Confederate. With this
information he could the more readily obtain more. Christy did not wish
to sleep, and he felt that he could not afford to spend his time in that
way. He sat up in the berth, and wrote the two names he had heard in his
pocket-diary, in order to make sure that he did not forget them. While
he was thus engaged Dr. Connelly came into the quarters of the crew.
"Well, Mr. Passford, are you all right?" asked the surgeon, as soon as
he discovered Christy in the dim light of the place.
"All right in every respect," replied the young officer cheerfully.
"You are not sea-sick?" inquired the doctor, laughing.
"Sea-sick! No, sir; I believe I never was sea-sick in my life."
"You are more fortunate than your cousin, for he is having quite a hard
time of it," added the doctor, who seemed to be very much amused that
the future commander of the Bronx, who had been to sea so much, should
be afflicted in this manner.
"He was always sea-sick when he first went out, and it appears that he
has not yet got over the habit.
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