"I was about to report to you, Mr. Passford; but Mr. Amblen wished to
ascertain whether or not there is a battery on this side of the point,"
said Flint.
"Do you find anything, Mr. Amblen?"
"No, sir; I can see nothing that looks like a battery," replied the
pilot.
"Then run in, and we will make fast to these schooners and haul them
out," added Christy in hurried tones.
The pilot went to the wheel, and rang one bell on the gong. Dolly
started the engine before Christy could reach the machine. He said
nothing to the oiler, but seated himself on the sofa, and observed his
movements. A few minutes later came the bell to stop her, and then two
bells to back her. Dolly managed the machine properly and promptly, and
seemed to be at home in the engine room. The color of his skin was a
sufficient guaranty of his loyalty, but Christy remained below long
enough to satisfy himself that Dolly knew what he was about, and then
went on deck.
By this time the noise on shore had become more pronounced, and he saw
the dark forms of several persons on the wharf. Flint and Amblen were
making fast to the nearest schooner, and a couple of seamen had been
sent on shore to cast off the fasts which held her to the wharf.
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