The fictitious Mr.Fetters kept his place at the wheel.

The binnacle had been lighted by the cook, and he knew the exact course for the entrance to the bay.

He felt that he was in possession of the Judith and her valuable cargo; and he had become so hardened in his patriotic duty that he felt no compunction of conscience because the vessel and cotton had been wrested from his uncle.
As Colonel Passford had not scrupled to attempt to capture the magnificent steamer of his own brother, it would be a poor rule that would not work both ways.

Besides, the proceeds of the sale of the cargo were to be expended in the purchase of supplies, and a steamer to carry them, for the use of the Confederacy.

His uncle, from his elevated standpoint of duty, would have an opportunity to consider the application of his stringent views on the other side of the question.
"I hope he is not dead," said Christy, as Flint bent over the prostrate form of the captain.
"I don't know; but I am going to take him below, and lock him up in his stateroom, where the crew will not see him," replied Flint.
"That is right; and I would help you if I could leave the wheel long enough," replied Christy.
"I can handle him alone; but see that none of the sailors come aft while I am about it," added the master's mate, as he dragged the form to the companion-way.
In such a work as he had on his hands, he had the strength of two men.
Without any great difficulty, he dragged the body to the cabin, and then into one of the two staterooms he found, which was lighted.