it was foggy,
as Mr. Galvinne had predicted that it would be, and the quartermaster
conning the wheel said it was as "dark as a stack of black cats."
Nothing could be seen in any direction, and the commander decided that
it was not prudent to proceed any farther.

The leadsman was ordered to sound, as the screw was stopped, and he
reported sixteen fathoms with the deep-sea lead. Christy ordered the
quartermaster to go ahead again, and keep the hand-line going all the
time. Mr. Flint came forward, and took his place on the bridge, where
the officer of the deck was usually stationed on board of the Bronx.

The reports of the leadsman were satisfactory, and the steamer went
ahead for an hour. Then they began to give a diminution of the depth of
water, indicating, as Christy stated it, that the vessel was approaching
the land. He looked over the log slate, and found that the course had
been due east till the order had been given to head her in the opposite
direction. She had sailed rather more than an hour on that tack, during
which the recapture of the steamer had been made.

"Mark under water twelve!" shouted the man with the hand lead.

"We are coming up with the shore," said Mr. Flint, as Christy joined him
on the bridge.

"Yes; but you will get four or five fathoms almost up to the beaches.
When I was here, the Bellevite was anchored outside, and we went gunning
and fishing in St. Andrew's Bay. The bay is about thirty miles long; but
it is as crooked as a ram's horn, and there is no town on it, though
there are some scattered houses," added Christy. "We shot fat ducks, and
caught plenty of red snappers and pompana there."

"And a half ten!" shouted the leadsman, as though he meant to have his
figures understood, as they indicated the shoaling of the depth.

But Christy gave no order to reduce the speed of the vessel, and seemed
to feel so thoroughly at home that Mr. Flint began to be a little
nervous. The young commander had carefully studied the chart of the
coast with the practical knowledge he had of the locality.

"Can you form any idea where we are, Captain Passford?" asked the
lieutenant.

"I figured up the course a while ago, and I think we are off St.
Andrew's Bay. If they had not put her about and run for an hour or more
to the westward, I should be satisfied in regard to my position; as it
is, I am not quite clear in regard to it," replied the commander.

"Quarter less ten!" shouted the leadsman, w