"Is the Bronx in condition for immediate service, Captain Passford?"
asked the flag-officer.
"She is, sir; she has not been in action since her crew was reinforced,"
answered Christy.
"I did not expect your return so soon, but I have your sealed orders
ready. You will get under way as soon as possible," added the commodore,
handing him the sealed envelope. "You will make your course south-west,
and open your orders at twelve o'clock to-night."
The commander of the Bronx left the cabin where the interview had taken
place. On the deck he met his uncle, who was curious to know what was to
be done with him.
"I can only say that you will not be held as a prisoner of war; but I
must leave you in the hands of the flag-officer, who will dispose of you
as he thinks best. I sail in the Bronx immediately."
Christy hastened on board of his vessel, after hastily shaking hands
with uncle Homer. All the prisoners had been removed from her, and the
commodore had sent a ship's company to the Floridian to relieve the
prize crew in charge of her. He had only to wait for Mr. Flint and the
men attached to the Bronx; and they came on board within an hour.
"You will call all hands, Mr. Flint," said the commander, as soon as the
executive officer appeared on the deck; and the call of the boatswain's
mate sounded through the vessel.
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