Mr. Giblock was the boatswain of the ship, though he had only the rank
of a boatswain's mate. He was an old sailor, as salt as a barrel of
pickled pork, and knew his duty from keel to truck. In a few moments his
pipe was heard, and the seamen began to walk around the capstan.

"Cable up and down, sir," said the boatswain, reporting to the second
lieutenant on the forecastle.

Mr. Lillyworth was the acting second lieutenant, though he was not to
be attached to the Bronx after she reached her destination in the Gulf.
He repeated the report from the boatswain to the first lieutenant. The
steamer was rigged as a topsail schooner; but the wind was contrary, and
no sail was set before getting under way. The capstan was manned again,
and as soon as the report came from the second lieutenant that the
anchor was aweigh, the first lieutenant gave the order to strike one
bell, which meant that the steamer was to go "ahead slow."

The Bronx had actually started on her mission, and the heart of Christy
swelled in his bosom as he looked over the vessel, and realized that
he was in command, though not for more than a week or two. All the
courtesies and ceremonies were duly attended to, and the steamer, as
soon as the anchor had been catted and fished, at the stroke of four
bells, went ahead at full speed, though, as the fires had been banked in
the furnaces, the engine was not working up to its capacity. In a couple
of hours more she was outside of Sandy Hook, and on the broad ocean. The
ship's company had been drilled to their duties, and everything worked
to the entire satisfaction of the young commander.

The wind was ahead and light. All hands had been stationed, and at four