It was half-past six, and Christy was informed that his father had not yet come down.

Word was sent up to him, and the son went to his room, where he found him only half dressed.
"I did not expect to see you at this time in the morning, my son," said the owner of the Bellevite.

"How did you come down so early ?" "I came in the Bellevite; and she is at anchor in the stream off Twentieth Street, father," replied Christy.
"In the Bellevite!" exclaimed Captain Passford, with the nearest thing to a frown that ever appeared on his brow in the presence of any member of his family.

"I don't quite understand how"-- "An attempt was made to capture her last night, father, and I thought it best to make sure of her," interposed the midshipman.
"To capture her!" ejaculated Captain Passford, suspending his toilet, and gazing into the face of his son.

"I think you must have dreamed that, Christy." "Perhaps I did, father; but we captured one prisoner of rank in my dream, and he is on board now, closely guarded by Sampson," replied Christy, laughing in his excitement.