"Pass the word for Mr. Flint," said Christy, after he had watched the
receding boat that bore away his father for a few minutes.
"On duty, Captain Passford," said the first lieutenant, touching his cap
to him a few minutes later.
"Heave short the anchor, and make ready to get under way," added the
commander.
"Heave short, sir," replied Mr. Flint, as he touched his cap and
retired. "Pass the word for Mr. Giblock."
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.
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