Flanger was engaged in a foolhardy enterprise; and the mutilation of his nasal member had resulted very naturally from his folly.
His enemy was probably a good sailor, and he was a bold ruffian.

Christy had captured the steamer loaded with cotton, in which he was all ready to sail from St.Andrew's Bay; and doubtless this was his first reason for hating the young officer.

But no soldier or sailor of character would ever think of such a thing as revenging himself for an injury received in the strife, especially if it was fairly inflicted.

The business of war is to kill, wound, and capture, as well as for each side to injure the other in person and property to the extent of its ability.
"Want a boat, sir ?" asked a negro, who saw that Christy was gazing at the Snapper, even while he was thinking about his quarrel with Captain Flanger.
"Where is your boat ?" asked the officer.
"Right here, sir," replied the boatman, pointing to the steps at the landing-place.

"The best sailboat in the harbor, sir." "I want to sail about this bay for a couple of hours," added Christy, as he stopped on the upper step to examine the craft.
It was built exactly like the Eleuthera, though not quite so large.
"I saw you looking at the steamer there," said the boatman, pointing to the vessel in which Christy was interested.