"Bless the Lord that you are his nephew and not his son!" exclaimed
Michael fervently, as he raised his eyes towards the sky, which was
beginning to be visible through the fog. "I have heard about you, for
I was to pilot a vessel out of Cedar Keys when you came up there in
command of the boats. Colonel Passford was over there, and he saw you
on board of the Havana."
"Then we understand each other, Mr. Bornhoff," added Christy.
"Perfectly, Captain Passford; and I would trust you with my freedom,
which is the dearest thing on earth to me. But don't call me 'mister,'
or you will make me forget that I am a nigger," said the skipper,
laughing in his delight to find that he was in good and safe hands.
"Captain Flanger called me Mike always, and that is a good enough name
for me."
"Very well, Mike; you are a free man on board of this ship."
"I ought to be, for I am a whiter man than Captain Flanger."
"Now tell me what you know about that expedition on board of the
Magnolia," said Christy more earnestly. "Mr. Pennant reports that your
passengers claimed that they were peaceable citizens, and that your
sloop was bound to Appalachicola. Was that true?"
"Just then they were peaceable enough; but they were not when Captain
Flanger ordered them to fire on your men.
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