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, with even more vigor than before.
"That will do; stop her and anchor, Mr.Flint," said Christy, as he looked about him in an endeavor to penetrate the fog in which the vessel was buried.
Then he listened for any sounds that might come to him from the direction of the shore; but all was as still as the tomb itself.

The screw stopped in obedience to the order of the executive officer, who went down to the deck to supervise the anchoring of the steamer, as he had no inferior officer to attend to this duty.
"Mr.Flint, drop a drift lead, and station a hand to observe it," said Christy, hailing the first lieutenant.
"A drift lead, sir," replied Mr.Flint.
This was a lead weighing twenty pounds, which is dropped on the bottom by men-of-war to determine if the anchor holds, or if the vessel is drifting.
"Station a strong lookout, Mr.Flint, and send a man aloft on the foremast and another on the mainmast," continued Christy when the other orders had been obeyed.
This completed the preparation for the night.

The captain consulted his repeater, and ascertained that it was twenty minutes past twelve.

The Bronx was in position to learn the fact if any vessel attempted to run out of St.Andrew's Bay, provided his calculations in regard to the locality of the Bronx were correct.