Stand By The Union | Page 8

astonished to observe that Walsh, the absconding man-servant, was one

of them.
CHAPTER III
CHRISTY PASSFORD IS UTTERLY CONFOUNDED
The appearance of Walsh, fully dressed in the garb of a seaman, was so
great a surprise to Christy Passford, that he hardly noticed any other
person on the deck of the Vernon. He had given no particular attention
to the man when he saw him at his father's house, though he regarded
him as a very good-looking and intelligent person for one in the
situation in which he found him. The absconding man-servant had
certainly made good use of his time since he left Bonnydale, for he
appeared to have become a full-fledged sailor in the space of ten hours.
For the size of the steamer, she seemed to be manned by a very large
crew; but the letter he had received from his father that morning
informed him that the greater part of the crew of the Bronx had been
transferred to other vessels upon more active service, and that a large
number of seamen were to be sent immediately to reinforce the
squadron. This was not pleasant intelligence, for he had become
acquainted with all on board of the Bronx, and he would have preferred
to begin his permanent service as commander with the former ship's
company of the little steamer. However, the exigencies of the service
required the change, and he could not complain.
It was probable that the greater part of his new crew would be made up
from the men now on board of the Vernon; and this belief caused him
to regard these men with more interest than he might otherwise have
done. He had no fault to find after the glance he had bestowed upon
them, for they presented a very trim appearance in their new uniform,
and looked a great deal more tidy than they would after they had been
on duty a few weeks.
Lieutenant Passford was on board of the Vernon, and he had no further
solicitude in regard to a literal obedience to his orders. The commander
of the steamer, whoever he was, did not appear to have noticed the new
arrival, and no one gave any attention to Christy. He walked forward to

take a better view of the crew, and the seamen touched their caps to the
shoulder straps of a lieutenant with which he had been careful to
ornament his coat.
The men at work in the waist finished their task as Christy was
returning from his promenade, with the intention of presenting himself
to the commander. Among those who saluted him in proper form was
Walsh. He seemed to be a little diffident about encountering the son of
his late employer, and turned his face away as he touched his cap. But
the officer had fully identified him, and spoke to him, calling him by
name. The sailor made no reply; but Christy had placed himself directly
before him, and he could not escape without a breach of discipline.
"I spoke to you, Walsh," said the lieutenant, in the tone he had learned
to use when he intended to enforce respect and obedience.
"I beg your pardon, sir; my name is not Walsh," replied the sailor, with
all the deference the occasion required.
"Your name is not Walsh!" exclaimed Christy with a frown.
"No, sir; that is not my name, and I supposed that you spoke to some
other man," pleaded the late man-servant of the mansion at Bonnydale.
The lieutenant gazed earnestly into the face of the sailor, for he was
willing to admit to himself the possibility of a mistake. Walsh, or
whatever his name might have been, was a man of robust form, not
more than an inch or two short of six feet in height. He was
clean-shaved, with the exception of his upper lip, whereon he sported a
rather long dark brown mustache, of which a Broadway dandy might
have been vain. As a servant, he had been rather obsequious, though
Christy had observed that he used very good language for one in his
menial position. As the officer examined his form and features, and
especially regarded the expression in general, he was satisfied that he
could not be mistaken.
"I did not speak to another man; I spoke to you," added Christy, as he
intensified the gaze with which he confronted the man, resorting to the

tactics of a sharp lawyer in the cross-examination of an obdurate
witness.
"I ask your pardon, sir, but you called me Welch, or some such name,"
replied the late servant, as Christy was sure he was in spite of his
denial.
"I called you Walsh; and that is the name to which you responded at
two o'clock this morning," persisted the lieutenant.
"That is not my