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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Lady and the Pirate + Being the Plain Tale of a Diligent Pirate and a Fair Captive + +Author: Emerson Hough + +Illustrator: Harry A. Mathes + +Release Date: March 24, 2008 [EBook #24907] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADY AND THE PIRATE *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 318px;"> +<img src="images/tlatp01.jpg" width="318" height="500" alt="Front cover of the book" /> +</div> + + + +<h1 style="padding-top: 3em;">THE LADY AND THE PIRATE</h1> + + + +<p class="center"><i>Being the Plain Tale of a Diligent Pirate<br /> +and a Fair Captive</i></p> + + +<p class="center" style="font-weight: bold; padding-top: 3em;"><i>By</i></p> + +<h2>EMERSON HOUGH</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Author of</i><br /> +<small>THE MISSISSIPPI BUBBLE, 54-40 OR FIGHT<br /> +THE PURCHASE PRICE, JOHN RAWN, ETC.</small></p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em;"><small>ILLUSTRATED BY</small></p> + +<h3>HARRY A. MATHES</h3> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em;">INDIANAPOLIS<br /> +THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY<br /> +PUBLISHERS</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 294px;"> +<img src="images/tlatp02.jpg" width="294" height="500" +alt="Helena stands, hands clasped in front of her, looking down at the floor" /> +<span class="caption">Thus the heartless jade stood, unable to meet my eagle eye</span> +</div> + + + + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright 1913</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Emerson Hough</span></p> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 5em;"><small>PRESS OF<br /> +BRAUNWORTH & CO.<br /> +BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS<br /> +BROOKLYN, N. Y.</small></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="Table of contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"><small>CHAPTER</small></td> + <td class="tdlsc"> </td> + <td class="tdrt"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">I</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Am a Caitiff</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">II</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Hold a Parley</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">III</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Am a Captive</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">IV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Am a Pirate</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">V</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Sail for the Spanish Main</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Acquire a Friend</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Achieve a Name</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Have an Adventure</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">IX</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Take Much Treasure</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">X</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Show My True Colors</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_90">90</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which My Plot Thickens</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Close with the Enemy</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Board the Enemy</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Abounding Trouble</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Conversation with the Captive Maiden</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Further Parley with the Captive Maiden</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Hue and Cry</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Discussion of Two Aunties</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIX</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Establish a Modus Vivendi</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XX</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Have Polite Conversation, but Little Else</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Make a Run for It</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Walk and Talk with Helena</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_192">192</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is a Pretty Kettle of Fish</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_205">205</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Have a Sensation</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Meet the Other Man, Also Another Woman</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Burn All Bridges</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Reach the Spanish Main</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Certain Polite Conversation</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIX</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Shipwreck</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_285">285</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXX</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Shipwreck of Other Sort</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_299">299</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Take to the Boats</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Rescue the Cook</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_324">324</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Are Castaways</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_333">333</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is No Rapprochement with the Fair Captive</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_349">349</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXV</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which I Find Two Estimable Friends, but Lose One Beloved</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_357">357</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXVI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which We Fold Our Tents</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_375">375</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXVII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Philosophy; Which, However, Should Not Be Skipped</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_384">384</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXVIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is an Armistice with Fate</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_395">395</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIX</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Are Sealed Orders</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_400">400</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XL</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Land Shows in the Offing</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_414">414</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLI</td> + <td class="tdlsc">In Which Is Much Romance, and Some Treasure, Also Very Much Happiness</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_426">426</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<h1 style="padding-top: 3em;">THE LADY AND THE PIRATE</h1> + + + +<h2 style="padding-top: 3em;">CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I AM A CAITIFF</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span> WAS sitting at one of my favorite spots engaged +in looking through my fly-book for some +lure that might, perhaps, mend my luck in the +afternoon’s fishing. At least, I had within the +moment been so engaged; although the truth is that +the evening was so exceptionally fine, and the spot +always so extraordinarily attractive to me—this +particular angle of the stream, where the tall +birches stand, being to my mind the most beautiful +bit on my whole estate—that I had forgotten +all about angling and was sitting with rod laid +by upon the bank, the fly-book scarce noted in +my hand. Moreover, a peculiarly fine specimen +of Anopheles, (as I took it to be) was at that +very moment hovering over my hand, and I was +anxious to confirm my judgment as well as to +enlarge my collection of mosquitoes. I had my +other hand in a pocket feeling for the little phial +in which I purposed to enclose Anopheles, if I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> +could coax him to alight. Indeed, I say, I was +at that very moment as happy as a man need +be; or, at least, as happy as I ever expected to be. +Imagine my surprise, therefore, at that moment +to hear a voice, apparently intended for me, exclaim, +“Halt! Caitiff!”</p> + +<p>I looked up, more annoyed than displeased or +startled. It is not often one sees so fine a specimen +of Anopheles; and one could have sworn +that, but for my slight involuntary movement +of the hand, he must have settled; after which—<i>crede +experto!</i>—he would have been the same +as in my phial, and doomed to the chloroform +within the next hour. Besides, no matter who +one may be or how engaged, it is not wholly +seemly to be accosted as a caitiff, when one is on +one’s own land, offending no man on earth, owing +no debt and paying no tribute, feudal, commercial, +military or personal, to any man on earth.</p> + +<p>The situation seemed to me singular. Had the +time been some centuries earlier, the place somewhere +in the old world, such speech might have +had better fitting. But the time was less than +a year ago, the place was in America. I was on +my own lands, in this one of our middle states. +This was my own river; or at least, I owned the +broad acres on both sides of it for some miles. +And I was a man of no slinking habit, no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +repulsive mien, of that I was assured, but a successful +American of means; lately a professional man +and now a man of leisure, and not so far past +thirty years of age. My fly-rod was the best +that money can buy, and the pages of the adjacent +book were handsomely stocked by the best makers +of this country and each of the three divisions +of Great Britain; in each of which—as well as in +Norway, Germany, or for the matter of that, +India, New Zealand, Alaska, Japan or other lands—I +had more than once wet a line. My garb +was not of leather jerkin, my buskins not of +thonged straw, but on the contrary I was turned +out in good tweeds, well cut by my London tailor. +To be called offhand, and with no more reason +than there was provocation, a “caitiff,” even by a +voice somewhat treble and a trifle trembling, left +me every reason in the world to be surprised, annoyed +and grieved. For now Anopheles had +flown away; and had I not been thus startled, +I should certainly have had him. Yet more, no +fish would rise in that pool the rest of that evening, +for no trout in my little stream thereabout +ever had seen a boat or been frightened by the +plash of an oar since the time, three years back, +when I had bought the place.</p> + +<p>I looked up. Just at the bend, arrested now by +hand anchorage to the overhanging alders, lay +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +a small boat, occupied by two boys, neither of +more than fourteen years, the younger seemingly +not more than twelve. It was the latter who was +clinging with one hand to the drooping bushes. +His companion, apparently the leader in their +present enterprise, was half crouching in the bow +of the boat and he, evidently, was the one who +had accosted me.</p> + +<p>A second glance gave me even more surprise, +for it showed that the boat, though not precisely +long, low and rakish of build, evidently was of +piratical intent. At least she was piratical in +decoration. On each side of her bow there was +painted—and the evening sun, shining through +my larches, showed the paint still fresh—in more +or less accurate design in black, the emblem of +a skull and cross-bones. Above her, supported +by a short staff, perhaps cut from my own willows, +flew a black flag, and whatever may have +been her stern-chaser equipment, her broadside +batteries, or her deck carronades—none of which +I could well make out, as her hull lay half concealed +among the alders—her bow-chaser was certainly +in commission and manned for action. The +pirate captain, himself, was at the lanyard; and +I perceived that he now rested an extraordinarily +large six-shooter in the fork of a short staff, which +was fixed in the bow. Along this, with a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +three-cornered gray eye, he now sighted at the lower +button of my waistcoat, and in a fashion +that gave me goose-flesh underneath the button, +in spite of all my mingled emotions. Had I not +“halted,” as ordered, to the extent of sitting on +quietly as I was, he no doubt would have pulled +the lanyard, with consequences such as I do not +care to contemplate, and mayhap to the effect that +this somewhat singular story would never have been +written.</p> + +<p>“Halt, Sirrah!” began the pirate leader again, +“or I will blow you out of the water!”</p> + +<p>I sat for a moment regarding him, my chin +in my hand.</p> + +<p>“No,” said I at last; “I already am out of the +water, my friend. But, prithee, have a care of +yonder lanyard, else, gadzooks! you may belike +blow me off the bank and into the water.”</p> + +<p>This speech of mine seemed as much to disconcert +the pirate chieftain as had his me. He +stood erect, shifting his Long Tom, to the great +ease of my waistcoat button.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you heave to, and put off a small boat +for a parley?” I inquired.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I HOLD A PARLEY</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE two pirates turned to each other for consultation, +irresolute, but evidently impressed +by the fact that their prize did not purpose to +hoist sail and make a run for it.</p> + +<p>“What ho! mates?” demanded the captain, in +as gruff a voice as he could compass: “Ye’ve +heard his speech, and he has struck his flag.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose the villain plays us false,” rejoined +the “mates” or rather, the mate, in a voice so +high or quavering that for a moment it was difficult +for me to repress a smile; although these +three years past I rarely had smiled at all.</p> + +<p>The captain turned to one side, so that now I +could see both him and his crew. The leader was +as fine a specimen of boy as you could have asked, +sturdy of bare legs, brown of face, red of hair, +ragged and tumbled of garb. His crew was active +though slightly less robust, a fair-haired, light-skinned +chap, blue-eyed, and somewhat better clad +than his companion. There was something winning +about his face. At a glance I knew his soul. +He was a dreamer, an idealist, an artist, in the +bud. My heart leaped out to him instinctively +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +in a great impulse of sympathy and understanding. +Indeed, suddenly, I felt the blood tingle through +my hair. I looked upon life as I had not these +three years. The imagination of Youth, the +glamour of Adventure, lay here before me; things +I cruelly had missed these last few years, it +seemed to me.</p> + +<p>“How, now, shipmates?” I remarked mildly. +“Wouldst doubt the faith of one who himself +hath flown the Jolly Rover? Cease your fears +and come aboard—that is to say, come ashore.”</p> + +<p>“Git out, Jimmy,” I heard the captain say in +a low voice, after a moment of indecision. “Keep +him covered till I tie her up.”</p> + +<p>Jimmy, the fair-haired pirate, hauled in on the +alders and flung a grappling iron aboard my bank, +which presently he ascended. As he stood free +from the screening fringe of bushes, I saw that +he was slender, and not very tall, one not wholly +suited by nature to his stern calling. His once +white jacket now was soiled, and one leg of his +knickers was loose, from his scramble up the +bank. He was belted beyond all earl-like need; wore +indeed two belts, which supported two long hunting +knives and a Malay kris, such as we now get +from the Philippines; as well as a revolver large +beyond all proportion to his own size. A second +revolver of like dimensions now trembled in his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +hand, and even though its direction toward me +was no more than general, I resumed the goose-flesh +underneath my waistcoat, for no man could +tell what might happen. In none of my works +with dangerous big game have I felt a similar +uneasiness; no, nor even in the little affair in +China where the Boxers held us up, did I ever +really consider the issue more in doubt. It pleased +me, however, to make no movement of offense +or defense; and luckily the revolver was not discharged.</p> + +<p>When the two had topped the bank, and had +approached me—taking cover behind trees in a +way which made me suspect Boy Scout training, +mingled with bandit literature—to a point where +we could see each other’s features plainly, I moved +over to one side of my bank, and motioned them +to approach.</p> + +<p>“Come alongside, brothers,” said I, pushing my +fly-rod to one side; “make fast and come aboard. +And tell me, what cheer?”</p> + +<p>They drew up to me, stern of mien, bold of +bearing, dauntless of purpose. At least, so I was +convinced, each wished and imagined himself to +seem; and since they wished so to be seen thus, +seized by some sudden whim, I resolved to see +them. How I envied them! Theirs all the +splendor of youth, of daring, of adventure, of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +romance; things gone by from me, or for the +most part, never known.</p> + +<p>Frowning sternly, they seated themselves reluctantly +on the grassy bank beside me, and gazed +out in the dignity of an imagined manhood across +my river, which now was lighted bravely by the +retiring sun. Had I not felt with them, longed +with them, they could never so splendidly have +maintained their pretense. But between us, there +in the evening on my stream with only the birds +and the sun to see, it was not pretense. Upon the +contrary, all cloaks were off, all masks removed, +and we were face to face in the strong light of +reality. As clearly as though I always had known +them, I saw into the hearts of these; and what I +saw made my own heart ache and yearn for something +it had ever missed.</p> + +<p>“What cheer, comrades?” I repeated at length. +“Whither away, and upon what errand?”</p> + +<p>Now a strange thing happened, which I do not +explain, for that I can not. In plain fact, these +two were obviously runaway boys, not the first, +nor perhaps the last of runaway boys; and I was +a man of means, a retired man, supposedly somewhat +of a hermit, although really nothing of the +sort; lately a lawyer, hard-headed and disillusioned, +always a man of calm reason, as I prided myself; +subject to no fancies, a student and a lover of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +science, a mocker at all superstition and all weak-mindedness. +(Pardon me, that I must say all these +things of myself.) Yet, let me be believed who +say it, some spell, whether of this presence of +Youth, whether of the evening and the sun, or +whether of the inner and struggling soul of Man, +so fell upon us all then and there, that we were +not man and boys, but bold adventurers, all three +of like kidney! This was not a modern land that +lay about us. Yonder was not the copse beyond +the birches, where my woodcock sometimes found +cover. This was not my trout-stream. Those +yonder were not my elms and larches moving +in the evening air. No, before us lay the +picture of the rolling deep, its long green swells +breaking high in white spindrift. The keen wind +of other days sounded in our ears, and yonder +pressed the galleons of Spain! Youth, Youth and +Adventure, were ours.</p> + +<p>We smiled not at all, therefore, as, with some +thoughtful effort, it is true, we held to fitting +manner of speech. “We seek for treasure,” piped +the thin voice of him I had heard called Jimmy. +“Let none dare lift hand against us!”</p> + +<p>“And whither away, my hearties?”</p> + +<p>“Spang! to the Spanish Main.” This also from +the blue-eyed boy; who, now, with some difficulty, +managed to let down the hammer of his six-shooter +without damage to himself or others.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +“We didn’t know but youse would try to stop +us,” exclaimed the red-haired leader. “We come +around the bend and seen you settin’ there; an’ +we was resolved—to—to——”</p> + +<p>“To sell our lives dearly!” supplemented Jimmy. +“He who would seek to stop us does so at his +peril.” And Jimmy made so fell a movement toward +his side-arms that I hastened to restrain him.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I; “you are quite right, my hearties.”</p> + +<p>“But, gee!” ventured the red-haired pirate, +“what was you thinkin’ about?”</p> + +<p>“You ask me to tell truth, good Sire,” I made +reply, “and I shall do no less. At the very moment +you trained your bow-chaser on me, I was thinking +of two things.”</p> + +<p>“Speak on, caitiff!” demanded Jimmy fiercely.</p> + +<p>“Nay, call me not so, good Sir,” I rejoined, “for +such, in good-sooth, I am not, but honest faithful +man. Ye have but now asked what I pondered, +and I fain would speak truth, an’ it please ye, my +hearties.”</p> + +<p>“What’s he givin’ us, Jimmy?” whispered the +pirate captain dubiously, aside.</p> + +<p>“Speak on!” again commanded he of the blue +eyes. “But your life blood dyes the deck if you +seek to deceive Jean Lafitte, or Henry L’Olonnois!”</p> + +<p>(So then, thought I, at last I knew their names.)</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +In reply I reached to my belt and drew out +quickly—so quickly that they both flinched away—the +long handled knife which, usually, I carried +with me for cutting down alders or other +growth which sometimes entangled my flies as I +fished along the stream. “Listen,” said I, “I swear +the pirates’ oath. On the point of my blade,” and +I touched it with my right forefinger, “I swear +that I pondered on two things when you surprised +me.”</p> + +<p>“Name them!” demanded Jimmy L’Olonnois +fiercely.</p> + +<p>“First, then,” I answered, “I was wondering +what I could use as a cork to my phial, when once +I had yonder Anopheles in it——”</p> + +<p>“Who’s he?” demanded Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“Anopheles? A friend of mine,” I replied; “a +mosquito, in short.”</p> + +<p>“Jimmy, he’s crazy!” ejaculated Jean Lafitte +uneasily.</p> + +<p>“Say on, caitiff!” commanded L’Olonnois, ignoring +him; “what else?”</p> + +<p>“In the second place,” said I—and again I placed +my right forefinger on the point of my blade, “I +was thinking of Helena.”</p> + +<p>“Is she your little girl,” hesitatingly inquired +Jimmy L’Olonnois, for the instant forgetting his +part.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +“No,” said I sadly, “she is not my little girl.”</p> + +<p>“Where is she?” vaguely.</p> + +<p>“Regarding the whereabouts of either Anopheles +or Helena, at this moment,” said I still sadly, “I +am indeed all at sea, as any good pirate should be.”</p> + +<p>I tried to jest, but fared ill at it. I felt my face +flush at hearing her name spoken aloud. And +sadly true was it that, on that afternoon and many +another, I had found myself, time and again, +adream with Helena’s face before me. I saw it +now—a face I had not seen these three years, since +the time when first I had come hither with the purpose +of forgetting.</p> + +<p>Jimmy was back in his part again, and doing +nobly. “Ha!” said he. “So, fellow, pondering on +a fair one, didst not hear the approach of our good +ship, the <i>Sea Rover</i>?”</p> + +<p>“In good sooth, I did not,” I answered; “and as +for these other matters, I swear on my blade’s +point I have spoken the truth.”</p> + +<p>Our conversation languished for the moment. +Illusion lay in the balance. The old melancholy +impended above me ominously.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I AM A CAPTIVE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“W</span>HAT ho! Jean Lafitte,” said I at length, +rousing myself from the old habit of +reverie, of which I had chiefest dread; “and you, +Henri L’Olonnois, scourges of the main, both of +you, listen! I have a plan to put before you, my +hearties.”</p> + +<p>“Say on, Sirrah!” rejoined the younger pirate, +so promptly and so gravely that again I had much +to do to refrain from sudden mirth.</p> + +<p>“Why then, look ye,” I continued. “The sun +is sinking beneath the wave, and the good ship +rides steady at her anchor. Meantime men must +eat! and yonder castle amid the forest offers booty. +What say ye if we pass within the wood, and +see what we may find of worth to souls bold as +ours?”</p> + +<p>“’Tis well!” answered L’Olonnois; and I could +see assent in Lafitte’s eyes. In truth I could discover +no great preparations for a long voyage in +the open hold of the <i>Sea Rover</i>, and doubted not +that both captain and crew by this time were +hungry. Odd crumbs of crackers and an empty +sardine can might be all very well at the edge of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +the village of Pausaukee (I judged they could +have come no greater distance, some twelve or +fifteen miles); but they do not serve for so long +a journey as lies between Pausaukee and the +Spanish Main.</p> + +<p>They rose as I did, and we passed beyond the +clump of tall birches, along the edge of my mowing +meadow, and through the gate which closes +my woodland path—to me the loveliest of all wood-trails, +so gentle and so silent is it always, and so +fringed, seasonably, with ferns and flowers. Thus, +presently, we saw the blue smoke rising above my +lodge, betokening to me that my Japanese factotum, +Hiroshimi, now had my dinner under way.</p> + +<p>To me, it was my customary abode, my home +these three years; but they beside me saw not +the rambling expanse of my leisurely log mansion. +They noted not the overhanging gables, the +lattices of native wood. To them, yonder lay a +castle in a foreign land. Here was moat and wall, +then a portcullis, and gratings warded these narrow +portals against fire of musketoon. My pet +swallows’ nest, demure above my door, to them +offered the aspect of a culverin’s mouth; and, as +now, I made my customary approach-call, by +which I heralded my return from any excursion +on the stream of an evening, I could swear these +invaders looked for naught less than a swarm of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +archers springing to the walls, and the hoarse answer +of my men-at-arms back of each guarded +portal. Such is the power of youthful dreaming, +such the residuary heritage of days of high emprise, +when life was full of blood and wine and +love, and savored not so wholly of dull commonplace!</p> + +<p>But indeed, (or so I presume; for at the moment +my own imagination swept on with theirs) none +manned the walls or rattled the chains of gate +and bridge. The saffron Hiroshimi opened the +screen door before us, showing no surprise or +interest in my strange companions. Thus we made +easy conquest of our castle. As we entered, there +lay before us, lighted softly by the subdued twilight +which filtered through the surrounding grove, +the interior of that home which in three years I +had learned much to love, lonely as it was. Here +I now dwelt most of the time, leaving behind me, +as though shut off by a closed door, the busy +scenes of an active and successful life. (I presume +I may fairly speak thus of myself, since there +is no one else to speak.)</p> + +<p>My pirate companions, suddenly grown shy, +stood silent for a moment, for the time rather +at a loss to carry on the play which had been +easier in the open. I heard Jimmy draw a long +breath. He was first to remove his hat. But his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +companion was quicker to regain his poise, although +for a moment he forgot his pirate speech. +“Gee!” said he. “Ain’t this great!”</p> + +<p>I doubt if any praise I ever heard in my life +pleased me more than this frank comment; no, +not even the kind word and hand-clasp of old +Judge Henderson, what time I won my first cause +at law. For this that lay about me was what I +had chosen for my life to-day. I had preferred +this to the career into which my father’s restless +ambition had plunged me almost as soon as I had +emerged from my college and my law-school—a +career which my own restless ambition had found +sufficient until that final break with Helena Emory, +which occurred soon after the time when my +father died; when the news went out that I, his +heir, was left with but a shrunken fortune, and +with many debts to pay; news which I, myself, +had promulgated for reasons of my own. After +that, called foolish by all my friends, lamented by +members of my family, forgotten, as I fancy, by +most who knew me, I had retired to this lodge +in the wilderness. Here, grown suddenly resentful +of a life hitherto wasted in money-getting +alone, I had resolved to spend the remainder of +my days, as beseemed a student and a philosopher. +Having read Weininger and other philosophers, I +was convinced that woman was the lowest and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +most unworthy thing in the scale of created +things, a thing quite beneath the attention of a +thinking man.</p> + +<p>I have said that I was scarce beyond thirty +years of age. Even so, I found myself already +old; and like any true philosopher, I resolved to +make myself young. As hitherto I had had no +boyhood, I determined to achieve a boyhood for +myself. Studying myself, I discovered that I had +rarely smiled; so I resolved to find somewhat to +make me smile. The great realm of knowledge, +widest and sweetest of all empires for a man, lay +before me alluringly when I entered upon my business +career; and so interested was I in my business +and my books that only by chance had I +met the woman who drove me out of both. A +boy I had never been; nay, nor even a youth. I +had always been old. True, like others of my +station, I had owned my auto cars, my matched +teams—owned them now, indeed—but I had never +owned a dog. So, when I came hither with ample +leisure, perhaps my chief ambition was a deliberate +purpose to encompass my deferred boyhood. +Thus I had built this house of logs which now—with +a surprised and gratifying throb of my heart +I learned it—appealed to the souls of real boys. +It was the castle where I dreamed; and now it +was the palace of their dreams also. I felt, at +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +least, that I had succeeded. My heart throbbed +in a new way, very foolish, yet for some reason +suddenly enjoyable.</p> + +<p>My house was all of logs and had no decorations +of paint or tapestry within. Its only arras +was of the skins of wild beasts—of the African +lion and leopard, the zebra, many antelopes. +The walls were hung with mounted heads—those +of the moose, the elk, the bighorn, most of the +main trophies of my own land and to these, +through my foreign hunting, I had added heads +of all the great trophies of Africa and Asia as +well. A splendid pair of elephant tusks stood in +a corner. A fine head of the sheep of Tibet, +<i>ovus poli</i>—and I prize none of my trophies more, +unless it be the fine robe of the Chinese mountain +tiger—looked full front at us from above the fireplace. +My rod racks, and those which supported my +guns and rifles, were here and there about the room. +The whole gave a jaunty atmosphere to my home. +I had gone soberly about the business of sport; +and in these days, that can be practised most successfully +by a man with much leisure and unstinted +means.</p> + +<p>My books lay about everywhere, also, books +which perhaps would not have appealed to all. +My copies of the Vedas, many works on the +Buddhist faith, and translations from Confucius, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +lay side by side with that Bible which we Christians +have almost forgot. Here, too, stood my desk +with its cases of preserved mosquitoes—for this +year I was studying mosquitoes as an amusement. +I had collected all the mosquito literature of the +world, and my books, in French, German and +English, lay near my great microscope. I had +passed many happy hours here in the oblivion of +mental concentration, always a delight with me, +now grown almost a necessity if I were to escape +the worst of all habits, that of introspection and +self-pity.</p> + +<p>My piano and my violins also were in full sight; +for the world of music, as well as the world of +sport and youth, I was deliberately opening for +myself, also in exchange for that closed world of +affairs which I had abandoned. Indeed, all manners +of the impedimenta of a well-to-do Japanese-cared-for +bachelor were in evidence. To me, each object +was familiar and was cherished. I had never felt +need to apologize to any gentleman for my +quarters or their contents—or to any woman, for +no woman had ever seen my home. I may admit +that, contrary to the belief of some, I was a +rich man, far richer that I had need or care to +be; and since it was not due to my own ability +altogether nor in response to any real ambition of +my own, I know I will be pardoned for simply +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +stating the truth. My one great ambition in life +was to forget; but if that might be best obtained +in sport, in study, or amid the gentle evidences +of good living, so much the better. Many +men had called my father, stern and masterful +man that he was, a robber, a thief, a pirate—in +great part, I suspect, in envy that they themselves +had not attained a like stature in similar achievement. +But no one had ever called his son a pirate—until +now! It made me oddly happy.</p> + +<p>I ought to have been happy here all these years, +able to do precisely what I liked; but sometimes +I felt myself strangely alone in the world. I was +always silent and apparently cold—though really, +let me whisper—only shy. Sometimes, even here, +I found myself a trifle sad. It is difficult to be a +boy when one starts at thirty; especially difficult if +one has always been rather old and staid.</p> + +<p>I tell all these things to explain that keen pleasure, +that swift exultation, that rush of the blood +to my cheeks, which I felt when I saw that my +house and my way of life met the approval of +real boys. Pirates, too!</p> + +<p>Swift, therefore, fell once more the magic curtain +of romance. I heard a strange voice, my own +voice, saying: “Enter then, my bold mates, and +let us explore this castle which we have conquered.” +Yes, illusion floated in through the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +windows on the pale light of the evening. This +was a castle we had taken; and the detail that I +chanced to own it was neither here nor there.</p> + +<p>“Prisoner,” began L’Olonnois sternly—he was +usually spokesman, if not always leader—“Prisoner, +your life is spared for the time. Lead on! +Attempt to play us false, and your blood shall be +spilled upon the deck!”</p> + +<p>“It shall be so,” I answered. “And if I do not +give you the best meal you have had to-day, then +indeed let my life’s blood stain the deck.”</p> + +<p>So saying, I nodded to Hiroshimi to serve the +dinner.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I AM A PIRATE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>ITH my own hands I have trained that +prize, Hiroshimi, to cook and to serve; but +only Providence could give Hiroshimi his super-humanly +disinterested calm. He fitted perfectly into +the picture of our dream. ’Twas no ordinary +log house in which we sat, indeed no house at +all. Beneath us rose and fell a stanch vessel, +responsive to the long lift of the southern seas. +It was not a rustle of the leaves we heard through +the open windows, but the low ripple of waves +along our strakes came to our ears through the +open ports. Hiroshimi did not depart to the +kitchen; but high aloft our lookout swept the +sea for sail that might offer us a prize.</p> + +<p>If any say that this manner of illusion may +not exist between two boys and a man, I answer +that we did not thus classify it. By the new +pleasure in my soul, by the new blood in my +cheek, I swear we were three boys together, +and all in quest of adventure.</p> + +<p>True, at times our speech smacked less of +nautical and piratical phrase, at times, indeed, +halted. It is difficult for a twelve-year-old pirate, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +exceeding hungry, to ask for a third helping of +grilled chicken in a voice at once stern and ingratiating. +Moreover, it is difficult for a discreet +and law-abiding citizen, with a full sense of duty, +deliberately to aid and abet two youthful runaways. +But whenever illusion wavered, L’Olonnois +saved the day by resuming his stern scowl, even +above a chicken-bone. His facility in rolling +speech I discovered to be, in part, attributable to +a volume which I saw protruding from his pocket. +At my request he passed it to me, and I saw its +title; <i>The Pirate’s Own Book</i>. I knew it well. +Indeed, I now arose, and passing to my bookshelves, +drew down a duplicate copy of that rare +volume, recounting the deeds of the old buccaneers. +The eyes of L’Olonnois widened as I laid +the two side by side.</p> + +<p>“You’ve got it, too!” he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>“That explains it,” said Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“Explains what?”</p> + +<p>“Why, how you—why now—how you could be +a pirate, too, just as natural as us.”</p> + +<p>“I have read it many a time,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t you never a pirate?” asked Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“No,” said I, smiling, “although many have +said my father was. He was very rich.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you can talk just like us,” said Jean +Lafitte admiringly, “even if you have lost all.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +“Of course,” said I exultingly. “Why not? I +think as you do. As much as you I am disgusted +with the dulness of life. I, too, wish to seek +my fortune. Well then, why not, John Saunders? +Why not, James Henderson?”</p> + +<p>Ah, now indeed illusion halted! Both boys, +abashed, fell back in their chairs. “How did you +know our names?” asked the older of the two at +length.</p> + +<p>“Nay, fear not,” said I. “I do but seek to +prove my fitness to join the jolly brotherhood, +good mates.”</p> + +<p>“Aw, honest!” rejoined Jimmy; “you got to tell +us how you knew.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, let me go on. In your book, here, +I saw your father’s name, Jimmy. I know your +father. He is Judge Willard Henderson of the +Appellate Court in the city. I was admitted to +the bar under him. He has a summer place at +the lake above here, as I know, although I have +never visited him there. I know your mother, +too, Jimmy,—so well I should not like to cause +her even a moment’s uneasiness about you.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know my auntie, Helena Emory?” demanded +Jimmy suddenly. I felt the blood surge +into my face.</p> + +<p>“Don’t misunderstand me,” I rejoined, “I only +have some gift of the second sight, as I shall now +prove to you. For instance, Jean Lafitte, I know +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +your earlier name was John Saunders, although I +never saw or heard of you before.”</p> + +<p>“Well, now, how’d you know that?” demanded +the elder boy.</p> + +<p>“I did not promise to tell the secrets of my +art,” I smiled. I did not tell him that I had seen +the name of Saunders on the tag of a shirt somewhat +soiled.</p> + +<p>“Your father’s name was John before you,” I +added at a venture. He assented, half-frightened, +although I had only guessed at this, supposing +John Saunders to be a somewhat continuous +family name in a family of auburn Highlanders.</p> + +<p>“He sells farm stuff at the hotel above,” I ventured. +And again my guess was truth.</p> + +<p>“You take the wagon there, sometimes, with +vegetables and milk and eggs; and so you met +Jimmy, here, and you went fishing together; and +he told you stories out of his book. I fear, John, +that your father licks you because you go fishing +on Sunday. That was why you resolved to run +away. You led Jimmy into that with you. Yesterday +you took a boat from the lake near the +hotel, and you painted her up and rigged her for +a pirate ship. You rowed across the lake to the +marsh where the little stream makes out—my +trout-stream here. You followed that stream +down, with no more trouble than ducking under +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +a wire fence once in a while, until you came to +my land, and until you saw me. You were afraid +I might tell on you; and besides, you were pirates +now; and so you took me prisoner. Marry, good +Sirs, ’tis not the first time a prisoner has joined a +pirate band!”</p> + +<p>“That’s wonderful!” gasped Jean T. Lafitte +Saunders. “And you say you have never been +up to our lake!”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I, “but I have a map, and I know +my river heads in your lake, and that very probably +it runs out of the low marshy side. Besides, +being a boy myself, I know precisely what boys +would do. Tell me, do you think I would betray +two of the brotherhood?”</p> + +<p>“You won’t give us away?” The elder pirate’s +face was eager.</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, I’ll see that you don’t get +into any trouble.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a good scout!” ejaculated he fervently, +his freckled face flushing.</p> + +<p>“We wasn’t—that is, we hadn’t—well, you see?” +began Jimmy. “Maybe we’d just have camped +down here and gone back to-morrow. I was afraid +about taking the boat. Besides, I’ve only got +about six dollars, anyhow.” He spread his wealth +out upon the table before me frankly.</p> + +<p>“Have no fear,” said I. “To-night I shall write +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +a few letters that will clear up every trouble back +home, and allow us to continue our journey to +the Spanish Main.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, will you?” cried Jimmy, much relieved. +“That’ll be a good scout,” he added.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I found myself smiling at him, I who +had smiled so rarely these years, whether in the +Selkirks or the Himalayas, in Uganda or here in +my own little wilderness—because Helena had +left me so sad.</p> + +<p>“But if I promise, you, also, must promise in +turn.”</p> + +<p>Used as I was, already, to the astounding +changes in Jimmy from boy to buccaneer and back +again, I was now interested at the fell scowl which +he summoned to his features, as soon as he felt +relieved as to the domestic situation. “Speak, fellow!” +he demanded; and folding his arms, presented +so threatening a front that I saw my man +Hiroshimi covertly lay hold upon a carving knife.</p> + +<p>“Why, then, my hearties,” said I, “’tis thus. +I’ll sign on as sea-lawyer and scrivener, as well +as purser for the ship. Yes, I’ll sign articles and +voyage with you for a week or a month, or two +months, or three. I’ll provender the ship and pay +all bills of libel or demurrage in any port of call; +and by my fateful gift of second sight, which ye +have seen well proven here to-night, not only will +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +I see ye safe for what ye already have done, but +will keep ye safe against any enemy we may meet, +be he whom he may!”</p> + +<p>“’Tis well,” said L’Olonnois. “Say on!”</p> + +<p>“And in return I ask a boon.”</p> + +<p>“Name it, fellow!”</p> + +<p>“Already I have named it—that I, too, shall +be accepted as one of the brotherhood. Oh, +listen”—I broke out impulsively—“I have never +been a pirate, and I have never been a boy. I +have had everything in the world I wanted and it +made me awfully lonesome, because when you have +everything you have nothing. I have nothing to +do but eat and sleep, and hunt and fish, and read +and write, and study and think, and play my +music, here. I do not want to do these things any +more. Especially I do not want to think. Boys +do not think, and I want to be a boy. I want to +be a pirate with you. I want to seek my fortune +with you.”</p> + +<p>We sat silent, almost solemn for a moment, so +sincere was my speech and so startling to them. +But thanks to L’Olonnois and his saving book, illusion +came to us once more in time.</p> + +<p>“Will ye be good brother and true pirate?” +demanded L’Olonnois. “And will ye take the oath +of blood?”</p> + +<p>“That I will!” said I.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +“Brothers and good shipmates all”—broke in +Jean Lafitte in a deep voice—“what say ye? Shall +we put him to the oath?”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!” responded the deep chorus of +scores of full-chested voices. Or, at least, so it +seemed to us, though, mayhap, ’twas no more than +Jimmy who spoke.</p> + +<p>“Swear him, then!” commanded Jean Lafitte. +“Swear him by the oath of blood.”</p> + +<p>“We—we haven’t any blood!” whispered +L’Olonnois, aside, somewhat troubled.</p> + +<p>“That have we, mates,” said I, “and the ceremony +shall have full solemnity.”</p> + +<p>I took up my keen hunting knife and deliberately +and slowly opened the side of my thumb, +more to the pain of Jimmy, I fancy, than to myself, +as I could see by the twitch of his features.</p> + +<p>“By this blood I swear!” said I: “and on the +point of my blade I swear to be a true pirate; +to fight the fight of all; to divulge no plans of the +company; and to share with my brothers share +and share alike of all booty we may take.”</p> + +<p>“’Tis well!” said L’Olonnois, much impressed +and delighted, as also was his mate, very evidently.</p> + +<p>“And now, my brothers,” said I, “you, also, +must swear to divulge no secret of mine that you +may learn, to tell nothing of my plans, or my +name, or the name of the port where I signed on +the rolls.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +“We don’t know your name,” said Jimmy, “but +neither of us will give you away.”</p> + +<p>Jean Lafitte was all for opening up his own +thumb for blood, but I stopped him. “This will +do,” said I, and stained his fingers and those of +L’Olonnois—who grew pale at sight of it to his +evident disgust.</p> + +<p>So, thus, I became a pirate, and we three were +brother rovers of the deep. I fancied my associates +would be loyal. I was thinking of a certain +cousin of the younger pirate. Not for worlds +would I seek to pursue her now; but there had +arisen in my soul, already, a sort of strange wonder +whether some intent of fate had sent this +youngster here to remind me once more of her, +whom I would forget.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said I at last, “let us seek what fare +the castle offers for the night.” I could see they +were tired and sleepy, and so found for them +bath and clean pajamas—somewhat too large to +be sure—and good beds in the wing of my log +house. And never, as I be a true pirate, never +have I seen so many and so various single-fire +and revolving short arms, in my life, as these +two buccaneers disclosed when they unbelted and +laid aside their jackets! Even thus equipped, I +found them looking enviously at my walls, where +hung weapons of many lands. I sent them to +bed happier by telling them that, in the morning, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +they should select such as they chose for the +equipment of our vessel. “Gee!” said Jean Lafitte +again. “Gee! <em>Gee!</em>” He was so happy that I, +too, was happy. It was L’Olonnois who changed +that.</p> + +<p>“Methinks,” said he, regarding me sternly, “that +in yonder ivy-clad halls might dwell some lady +fair! Tell me, is it not so?”</p> + +<p>He stretched a thin arm out, in the sleeve of +my smallest pajamas, and pointed a slender finger +at the interior of my castle of dreams. Alas, +after all it was empty! My old melancholy came +back to me.</p> + +<p>“No, my brothers,” said I, “no maid has ever +passed yon door. No, nor ever will.”</p> + +<p>L’Olonnois bent his flaxen head in dignified and +manly sympathy. “I see,” said he, “our brother +in his youth has, perhaps, been deceived by some +fair one!”</p> + +<p>Upon which I left them for my own room.</p> + +<p>If two buccaneers in my castle slept well that +night, a third did not. Anopheles might go hang. +I did not fancy my new microscope. I doubted +if my last violin were a real Strad. I did not like +the last music my dealers had sent out to me. My +studies of Confucius and Buddha might go hang, +and my new book as well. For now, before me, +came the face of a certain pirate’s aunt, and she +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +was indeed a lady fair. And I knew full well—as +I had known all these years, although I had +tried to deceive myself into believing otherwise—that +gladly as I had exchanged the city for the +wilderness, with equal gladness would I exchange +my leisure, all my wealth, all my belongings, for +a moment’s touch of her hand, a half-hour of +talk heart-to-heart with her, so that, indeed, I +might know the truth; so that, at least, I might +have it direct from her, bitter though the truth +might be.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE SAIL FOR THE SPANISH MAIN</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>HEN, in the morning, I passed from my +quarters toward the main room which +served me both as living-room and dining hall, I +found that my pirate guests were also early +risers. I could hear them arguing over some +matter, which proved to be no more serious +than the question of a cold bath of mornings, +Jimmy maintaining that everybody had a cold +bath every morning, whereas John insisted with +equal heat that nobody ever bathed (“washed,” +I think he called it), oftener than once a week, +to wit, on Saturdays only. They engaged in a +pillow fight to settle it, and as Jimmy had John +fairly well smothered by his rapid fire, I voted +that the ayes appeared to have it when they referred +the point to me.</p> + +<p>As we are very remote and never visited in +my wilderness home, it is not infrequent that I +take my morning meal very much indeed in +mufti, although Hiroshimi is always most exact +himself. On this morning it occurred to us all +that pajamas made a garb more piratical and more +nautical than anything else obtainable, so we took +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +breakfast—and I think Hiroshimi never served +me a breakfast more delicate and tempting—clad +as perhaps the Romans were, if they had pajamas +in those times. All went well until the keen eyes +of Jimmy, wandering about my place, noted a +certain photograph which rested on the top of my +piano—where I was much comforted always to +have it, especially of an evening, when sometimes +I played Mendelssohn’s <i>Spring Song</i>, or other +music of the like. It was the picture of the +woman who did not know and very likely did not +care where, or how, I lived—Helena Emory, to +my mind one of the most beautiful women of her +day; and I have seen the world’s portraits of the +world’s beauties of all recorded days in beauty. +Toward this Jimmy ran excitedly—I, with equal +speed, endeavoring to divert him from his purpose.</p> + +<p>“But it’s my Auntie Helen!” he protested, when +I recovered it and placed it in my pocket.</p> + +<p>“It is your Auntie fiddlesticks, Jimmy,” said I +hastily, hoping my color was not heightened. “It +is your grandmother! Finish your breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“I guess I ought to know—” he began.</p> + +<p>“What!” I rejoined. “Wouldst pit your wisdom +against one who has the second sight; have +a care, shipmate.”</p> + +<p>“It was!” he reiterated. “I know ain’t anybody +pretty as she is, so it was.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +“Jimmy L’Olonnois,” said I, “let us reason about +this. I——”</p> + +<p>“Lemme see it, then. I can tell in a minute. +Why don’t you lemme see it, then?” He was +eager.</p> + +<p>“Shipmate,” I replied to him, “the hand is sometimes +quicker than the eye, and the mind slower +than the heart. For that reason I can not agree +to your request.”</p> + +<p>“But what’d <em>he</em> be doing with Miss Emory’s +picture, Jimmy?” argued Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“That’s what I’d like to know,” I added. “It +may be that, in your haste, you have confused in +your mind, Jimmy, some portrait with that of the +Princess Amèlie Louise, of Furstenburg.” (I had +indeed sometimes commented on the likeness of +Helena Emory to that light-hearted old-world +beauty.) Jimmy did not know that a photograph +of the princess herself, also, stood upon the piano +top, nor did he fully grasp the truth of that old +saying that the hand is quicker than the eye. At +least, he gazed somewhat confused at the portrait +which I now produced before his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Who was she?” he inquired.</p> + +<p>“A very charming young lady of rank, who +eloped with a young man not of rank. In short, +although she did not marry a chauffeur, she did +marry an automobile agent. And surely, Jimmy, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +your Auntie Helen—whoever she may be—would +do no such thing as that and still claim to be a +cousin of a L’Olonnois?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. You can’t always tell what a +girl’s going to do,” said Jimmy sagely. “But I +don’t think Auntie Helen’s going to marry a auto +man.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Jimmy?” (I found pleasure and dread +alike in this conversation.)</p> + +<p>“Because everybody says she’s going to get married +to Mr. Davidson, and he’s a commission +man.”</p> + +<p>Now, I am sure, my face did not flush. It may +have paled. I tried to be composed. I reached +for the melon dish and remarked, “Yes? And +who is he? And really, who is your Auntie +Helena, Jimmy, and what does she look like?” I +spoke with a fine air of carelessness.</p> + +<p>“She looks like the princess, you said,” replied +Jimmy. “And Mr. Davidson’s rich. He’s got a +house on our lake, this summer, and he lives in +New York and has offices in Chicago, and travels +a good deal. He has some sort of factory, too, +and he’s awful rich. I like him pretty well. He +knows how all the ball clubs stand, both leagues, +every day in the year. You ought to know him, +because then you might get to know my Auntie +Helena. If they got married, like as not, I could +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +take you up to their house. I thought everybody +knew Mr. Davidson, and my Auntie Helena, too.”</p> + +<p>Everybody did. Why should I not know Cal +Davidson, one of the decentest chaps in the world? +Why not, since we belonged to half a dozen of the +same clubs in New York and other cities? Why +not, since this very summer I had put my private +yacht (named oddly enough, the <i>Belle Helène</i>) +in commission for the first season in three years, +and chartered her for the summer around Mackinaw, +and a cruise down the Mississippi to the +Gulf that fall? Why not, since I had still unbanked +the handsome check Davidson had insisted +on my taking as charter money for the last quarter?</p> + +<p>Davidson! Of all men I had counted him my +friend. And now here was he, reputed to be about +to marry the girl who, as he knew, must have +known, ought to have known, was all the world +to me! Even if she would have none of me, and +even though I had no shadow of claim on her—even +though we had parted not once but a dozen times, +and at last in a final parting—Davidson ought to +have known, must have known! And my own +yacht! Why, no man may know what may go +forward in a yachting party. And, if perchance +that fall he could persuade to accompany him +Helena and her chaperon (I made no doubt that +would be her Aunt Lucinda; for Helena’s mother +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +died when she was a child, and she was somewhat +alone, although in rather comfortable circumstances) +what could not so clever a man as Davidson, +I repeat, one with so much of a way with +women, accomplish in a journey so long as that, +with no other man as his rival? It would be just +like Cal Davidson to go ashore at St. Louis long +enough to find a chaplain, and then go on ahead +for a honeymoon around the world—on my boat, +with my.... No, she was not mine ... but +then....</p> + +<p>All my life I have tried to be fair, even with my +own interests at stake. I tried now to be fair; and +I failed! I could see but one side to this case. +Davidson must be found at once, must be halted +in mid-career.</p> + +<p>It was about this time that Hiroshimi came in +with the morning’s mail and telegrams, all of +which at my place come in from the railway, ten +miles or so, by rural free delivery. I paid small +attention to him, most of my mail, these days, +having to do with gasoline pumps or patent hay +rakes and lists from my gun and tackle dealers +and such like.</p> + +<p>Hiroshimi coughed. “Supposing Honorable like +to see these yellow wire envelopings.”</p> + +<p>I glanced down and idly opened the telegram. +It was from Cal Davidson himself, and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +<p>“Name best price outright sale bill Helen to me +answer Chicago.”</p></div> + +<p>So then, the scoundrel actually was on his way +down the lakes, headed for the South, even thus +early in the season! I knew, of course, that Bill +Helen meant <i>Belle Helène</i>. As though I would +sell my boat to him, of all men! It might almost +as well have been a sale of Helena herself outright, +as this cursed telegram stated. I crumpled +the sheet in my hand.</p> + +<p>“If Honorable contemplates some answering of +mail this morning, it will be one ow-wore till the +miserable pony mail carry all man comes,” ventured +Hiroshimi.</p> + +<p>“Nothing this morning, Hiro,” I managed to +choke out, “and, Hiro, make ready my bag, the +small one, for a journey.”</p> + +<p>“S-s-s-s!” hissed Hiroshimi, which was his way +of saying, “Yes, sir, very well, sir.” Surprise he +neither showed now nor at any time; and since +he never could tell at what hour I might conclude +to start for his country or Europe or Africa or +some other land for a stay of weeks or months, +there was perhaps some warrant for his calm. He +had less to do when I was away; although I always +suspected him of poaching my trout with his +infernal Japanese methods of angling.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +At this moment L’Olonnois saw, through the +open door, a red squirrel which scampered up a +tree. At once he forgot all about his Auntie Helen +and scampered off in pursuit, followed presently +by Lafitte. This gave me time to decide upon a +plan.... At last, I lifted my head again.... +Why not, then?</p> + +<p>When L’Olonnois returned from the chase of +the squirrel, he was all L’Olonnois and none Jimmy +Henderson. The spell of his drama was upon him +once more.</p> + +<p>“What ho, mate,” he began, scowling most vilely +at me, “the sun is high in the heavens, yet we +linger here. Let us up anchor, hoist the top-gallant +mast and set sail for the enemy.”</p> + +<p>Jimmy’s nautical terms might have been open +to criticism, but there was no denying the bold +and manly import of his speech. My own heart +jumped well enough with it now.</p> + +<p>“’Tis well, shipmate,” said I. “Come, get ready +your togs and your weapons, and let us away. As +you say, the good ship tugs at her anchor chains +this morning.”</p> + +<p>I managed to better the wardrobe of both boys +by certain ducks and linens from my own store, +albeit a world too large. Lafitte, none too happy +at being thus uncongenially clean, was delight itself +when set to selecting an armament from my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +collection. He chose three bright and clean Japanese +swords, special blades of the Samurai armorers, +forged long before Mutsuhito’s grandfather was a +boy—I had paid a rare price for them in Japan. +To these he added three basket-handled cutlasses, +which I had obtained in London, each almost old +enough to have belonged to the crew of Drake +himself. A short-barreled magazine pistol for +each of us was his concession to the present unromantic +age. As for Jimmy, he insisted on a +small bore rifle as well as a shotgun. “We might +see something,” he remarked laconically.</p> + +<p>Thus equipped, I persuaded my associates to lay +aside most of their somewhat archaic artillery. +Neither had taken any thought of other supplies. +Hiroshimi, however, now appeared, bearing, in +addition to my hand luggage, two hampers, a roll +of blankets and a silk tent in its canvas wrapper.</p> + +<p>“Honorable is embarked in those small-going +boat that is made tied to the bank?” inquired Hiroshimi. +He had said nothing to me about my guests, +or asked how they came; but as I knew he would +find out all about it, anyhow, after his own fashion, +I had not mentioned anything to him, or told him +what to do. I only nodded now, relying on his +efficiency. He now approached my young pirates, +and rather against their will, removed from them +some of their burden of weapons, slinging about +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +himself bundles, baskets, bags and cutlery, until +he almost disappeared from view. He cast on me +a reproachful gaze, however, as he took from +Lafitte’s hand the bared blade of the old Samurai +sword, and noted the ancient inscription on blade +and scabbard as he sheathed it reverently.</p> + +<p>“What does it say, Hiro?” I asked of him.</p> + +<p>“Very old talk, Honorable,” answered Hiroshimi. +“It say, ‘Oh, Honorable Gentleman who carry me, +I invite you to make high and noble adventurings.’”</p> + +<p>“Let me carry it, Hiro,” said I; and I tucked +it under my own arm.</p> + +<p>“Good!” exclaimed L’Olonnois. “Then you are +going with us? And did you write the letters that +you promised us?”</p> + +<p>“I always keep my word.”</p> + +<p>“And it’ll be all right back home about mother +and the boat? I’ll give you my six dollars!”</p> + +<p>“There is no need. I told you, if you would +make me one of the crew of the <i>Sea Rover</i> and +let me seek my fortune with you, I would gladly +pay all the reckoning of our journey.”</p> + +<p>“And how long will we be gone?”</p> + +<p>“Till after your school begins, I fear.”</p> + +<p>“And how far are you going with us?”</p> + +<p>“Spang! to the Spanish Main!” I answered.</p> + +<p>So then we set forth down my woodland path.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I ACQUIRE A FRIEND</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>E proceeded, therefore, through the wood, +sweet in the dew of morning, among many +twittering birds, and so came, presently, to +the end of my path, where the little gate shuts +it off from my mowing meadow; at the upper end +of which, it may be remembered, the good ship +<i>Sea Rover</i> lay anchored. The grass stood waist-high +and wet in the dew as we turned along the +meadow side, and L’Olonnois flinched a bit, although +Lafitte waded along carelessly.</p> + +<p>I observed that each boy had now thrust into +his hat band a turkey feather, picked up, en route, +along my field’s edge. Jimmy was not sure of the +correctness of this; and admitted that, sometimes, +he had read literature having to do with Indian +fighting, as well as piratical enterprises. I suggested +that, to my mind, nothing quite took the +place of the regulation red kerchief bound about +the head; whereat, gravely, both L’Olonnois and +Lafitte discarded their hats and feathers, for the +bandannas which I proffered them. Having bound +these about their foreheads, a great courage and +confidence came to them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +L’Olonnois drew his sword, and with some care +placed the blade between his teeth. “Hist!” exclaimed +Lafitte, himself swept by his friend’s +imagination, and preparing to place his cutlass in +his mouth also. “Let us approach the vessel with +care, lest the enemy be about.” So saying, each +pirate with a mouthful of cold steel, and a hand +shading his red-kerchiefed brow, stole through my +clump of birches toward the bend, where the boat +had first surprised me; myself following, somewhat +put to it to refrain from laughter, although +one rarely laughs in the young hours of the day, +and myself rarely, at all.</p> + +<p>We were greeted by no hostile shot, and found +our vessel quite as we had left her, as I could see +at a glance when we neared the bank; but, none +the less, something stirred in the bushes. A growl +and a sudden barking, greeted Hiroshimi as he +approached the boat in advance.</p> + +<p>“You, Tige!” called out Lafitte. The dog—a +dog none too beautiful, and now just a bit forlorn—approached +us, alternately wagging in +friendship and retreating in alarm.</p> + +<p>“Well, what do you think of that!” said Jimmy. +“We left him back at the lake—sent him home +half a dozen times. How’d he get here, and how’d +he know where we was?”</p> + +<p>“He couldn’t a-swum the lake,” assented John. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +“And it was more’n ten miles around; and how +could he smell where we went, on the water? Come +here, Tige, you blame fool!”</p> + +<p>“Nay,” said I, “he is no fool, this dog, but a +creature of great reason, else he never could have +found you. And I’ll be bound he is as keen for +adventure as any of us.”</p> + +<p>“He is coming here last night two ow-wore +after dinner,” said the omniscient Hiroshimi. “Also +he bite me on leg. He, also, is malefactor.”</p> + +<p>“He has allotted to himself the duty of caring +for the property of his masters, Hiro,” I said, +“and hence is not really a malefactor. Besides, +since he would not leave the boat and follow our +trail, he is by this time hungry. Feed him, Hiro.”</p> + +<p>But Hiroshimi was not eager to approach the +piratical canine again; so I, myself, fished something +from a hamper and called the dog to me. +He ate gladly and most gratefully.</p> + +<p>Now, it is a strange thing to say, but it is the +truth, I had never before in my life fed a dog! +I had won many knotty suits at law, had solved +many hard problems dealing with human nature—and +had found human nature for the most part +rarely glad or grateful—but I have never owned +or even fed a dog. A strange new feeling came +in my throat now. Suddenly I swallowed some +invisible intangible thing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +“John,” said I, “what breed of dog is this?” +Indeed, it was hard to tell offhand, although he +had the keen head of a collie.</p> + +<p>“I guess he’s just one o’ them partial dogs,” +answered John, “mostly shepherd, maybe; I dunno.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Partial shall be his name. And is +he yours?”</p> + +<p>“He runs round on the farm. He goes with +Jimmy an’ me.”</p> + +<p>“John, will you sell me Partial?” I asked this +suddenly, realizing that my voice might sound +odd.</p> + +<p>“What’d ye want him fer?” he replied. “He’d +be a nuisance.”</p> + +<p>“I think not. See how faithful he has been, see +how grateful he is; and how wise. He reasoned +where you were as well as I reasoned who you +were. He knows now that we are talking about +him, and knows that I am his friend—see him +look at me; see him come over and stand by me. +John, do you think—do you believe a dog, this +dog, would learn to like me, ever? Would he +understand me?”</p> + +<p>“Well,” said John judicially, standing sword in +hand, “I dunno. Someways, maybe dogs and boys +understands quicker. But you understand us. +Maybe he’d understand you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +“Well reasoned, Jean Lafitte,” said I, “perhaps +your logic is better than you know, at least, I +hope so. And now I offer you yonder magazine +pistol as your own in fee, if you will sign over to +me all your right, title and interest, in Partial, +here. Evidently he belongs with us. He seems +to care for us. And I experience some odd sort +of feeling, which I can not quite describe. Perhaps +it is only that I feel like a boy, and one that +is going to own a dog. Is it a bargain?”</p> + +<p>“Sure! You c’n have him for nuthin’,” said +Lafitte. “He ain’t worth nothin’. Besides, I can’t +charge a brother of the flag anything; anyhow, +not you.” I inferred that Jean Lafitte, also, was +going to grow up into one of those men like myself, +cursed with a reticence and shyness in some +matters, and so winning a reputation of oddness +or coldness, against all the real and passionate +protest of his own soul.</p> + +<p>“No, brother,” I said to him: “I’ll not offer +you trade, but gift. Let it be that if I can win +the dog, and if he will take me as his master and +friend, he shall be mine. And you take the pistol, +and have a care of it.”</p> + +<p>“That’s all right!” said Lafitte shyly, yet delightedly, +as I could see.</p> + +<p>“Here, Partial!” I called to the dog; and being +young and friendly, and attached to neither in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +particular, and only in general worshiping the +creature Boy, he came to me! I fed him, stroked +him, looked into his eyes. And in a few moments +he put his feet on my shoulders, and licked at +my ear, and began to talk to me in low eager +whines, and rubbed his muzzle against my cheek, +and said all that a dog could say in oath of feudal +service, pledging loyalty of life and limb. At +which I felt very odd indeed; and began to see +the world had many things in it of which I had +never known; but which, now, I was resolved to +know.</p> + +<p>“Honorable is embarking those malefactor canine +thing with so much impediments in this small-going +boat?” inquired Hiroshimi.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” I answered. “At once. All four of us. +Put the stuff aboard, Hiro.”</p> + +<p>So, somewhat crowded as the <i>Sea Rover</i> was, +with three boys and a dog, not to mention our +supplies and our armament, at last we were afloat +with crew and cargo aboard. Hiro was not surprised, +and asked no questions. With the salaam +with which he announced dinner, he now announced +his own departure for his duties at my +deserted house; and as he walked he never +turned around for curious gaze. Often, often +have I, in my readings in the Eastern philosophy, +endeavored to analyze and to emulate this Oriental +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +calm, this dismissal from the soul of things small, +things unessential and things unavoidable. An +enviable character, my boy Hiroshimi.</p> + +<p>Now all was bustle and confusion aboard the +good ship <i>Sea Rover</i>. “Stand by the main braces!” +roared Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!” replied the crew, that is to say, +Jimmy L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>“Hard a lee!”</p> + +<p>“Hard a lee it is, Sir!”</p> + +<p>“Hoist the top-gallant mainsail an’ clew all +alow an’ aloft!”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!”</p> + +<p>“Man the capstan! All hands to the starboard +mizzen chains! Heave away!”</p> + +<p>“Heave away!” rejoined our gallant crew, never +for a moment in doubt as to the captain’s meaning. +And, indeed, he gave a push with an oar at +the bank, which thrust us into the smart current +of my little river.</p> + +<p>We were afloat! We were off to seek our fortune!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 335px;"> +<img src="images/tlatp03.jpg" width="335" height="500" +alt="The man and two boys in a boat, one of the boys rowing" /> +<span class="caption">I, too, stood, shading my eyes with my hand</span> +</div> + +<p>Ah, what a fine new world was this which lay +before us! But for one thing, this had no doubt +been the happiest moment in my life. For, always, +the attaining of knowledge, the growth of +a man’s mind and soul, had to me seemed the one +ambition worth a man’s while; and now, as I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +might well be assured, I had learned more and +grown more, these last twelve hours or so, than I +had in any twelve years of my life before. Before +me, indeed, had opened a vast and wonderful +world. That morning, as we swept around curve +after curve of the swift trout-stream that I loved +so well, among my alders, through my bits of +wood, along my hills—with Lafitte and L’Olonnois +standing, each alert, silent, peering ahead under his +flat hand to see what might lie ahead (I astern +with Partial’s head on my knee), I felt rise in my +soul the same sweet grateful feeling that I had +when the new world of music opened to me, what +time I first caught the real meaning of the <i>Frühlingslied</i>. +My heart leaped anew in my bosom, +for the time forgetting its sadness. I saw that +the world after all does hold faith and loyalty +and friendship and perpetual, self-renewing Youth.... +I also rose, cast my hat aside, and with one +hand reaching down to touch my friend’s head, +I, too, stood, shading my eyes with my edged +hand, peering ahead into this strange new world +that lay ahead of me.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I ACHIEVE A NAME</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">S</span>O winding is my trout river, and so extensive +are my lands along it, that it was not until +nearly noon that our progress, sometimes halted +by shallows, again swift in the deeper reaches, +brought the <i>Sea Rover</i> to the lower edge of my +estate. Here, the river was deeper and more silent, +the waters were not quite so cold, but as we passed +a high hardwood bridge from which issued a cool +spring of water, I suggested a halt in our voyage, +to which my companions, readily enough, agreed. +We, therefore, disembarked and prepared to have +our luncheon.</p> + +<p>It was obvious to me that Jean Lafitte and +Henri L’Olonnois were not on their first expedition +out-of-doors, for they set about gathering wood +and water in workmanlike fashion. They did not +yet fully classify me, so, in boyish shyness, left +me largely ignored, or waited till I should demonstrate +myself to them. It was, therefore, with +delicacy that I ventured any suggestions from the +place where Partial and I sat in the shade watching +them.</p> + +<p>I have mentioned the fact that I had been a +hunter and traveler, and had met success in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +field; yet the truth is, I began all that late in life, +and deliberately. To me, used to exact habit of +thought in all things, and accustomed to be +governed by trained reason alone, it was never +enough to say that a thing was partly done, or +well enough done to pass: only the best possible +way had any appeal to me. I brought my reason +to bear on every situation in life. Thus, I studied +an investment carefully, and before going into it, +I knew what the result would be. My investments, +therefore, always have prospered, because they +were not based on guess or chance, as nine-tenths +of all the public’s business ventures are. In the +same way, I had gone deliberately about the matter +of winning the regard of the only woman I ever +saw who seemed to me much worth while. I +argued and reasoned with Helena Emory that she +should marry me, proving to her by every rule of +logic that, not only was she the most lovable +woman in all the records of the world, but, also, +that love such as mine never had before been +known in the world. Sometimes, as I logically +proved the fitness of our union, and grew warm +at my own accuracy, she wavered, relented, +warmed: and then again, forgetting my argument, +she would relapse into womanlike frivolity once +more.... I did not like to think of this, as I +sat in the shade with Partial. It cost me much +in self-respect, irritated me.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +But, having studied sport and outdoor living +deliberately as I had studied the law and business +and Helena, I had rather a thorough grounding, +on life in the open, for I had read every authority +obtainable; whereas my young associates had read +none. So cautiously, now and then, I suggested +little things to them, as that the fire need not be +so large, and would do better if confined between +two green side logs. I taught them how to boil +the kettle quickly, how to make tea, and also, more +difficult, how to make coffee; how to cook bacon +just enough, and how to cook fish—for I had +taken a few trout earlier in the day—and how to +make toast without charring it to cinders. Again, +I delighted them by telling them of little camping +devices, and quite won their hearts when I found +among Hiroshimi’s packages, a small camp griddle +with folding legs, of my own devising. It was +quite clean and new, but it performed as I felt +quite sure it would. In fact, reason will govern +all things—except a woman.</p> + +<p>We ate <i>al fresco</i>, as true buccaneers of the main, +and grew better and better acquainted. It occurred +to me that mayhap the nautical education +of my associates was, after all, somewhat superficial, +so I set about mending it by explaining +something of the rigging of the ship; and I gave +them, by means of the <i>Sea Rover’s</i> bowline, some +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +lessons in sailorman splices and knots. The bow-line-in-a-bight, +the sheet-bend, the clinch-knot, the +jam-knot, the fisherman’s water-knot, the stevedore’s +slip-knot, the dock-hand’s round-turns and +half-hitches for cable makefast, the magnus-hitch, +the fool’s-knot, the cat’s-cradle, the sheep-shank, +the dog-shank, and many others—all of which I +had learned in books and in practise—I did for +them over and over again; just as I could have +done for them a half-dozen different ways of +throwing the diamond-hitch in a pack-train, or +the stirrup-hitch in a cow camp, or many other +of the devices of men who live in the open; for +beginning late in life in these things, I had studied +them hard and faithfully.</p> + +<p>I could see—and I noted it with much gratification—that +I was rising in the estimation of my +pirates. It pleased me not at all to show that I +knew more than they of these things, for I was +older and my mind was long my trained servant; +but I had monstrous delight in seeing myself accepted +as one fit to associate with them. Once +or twice, I saw the two draw apart in some debate +which I knew had to do with me. “Well, now,” +Lafitte would begin; and L’Olonnois would demur. +“No, I don’t just like that one,” he would say. +By nightfall—and I presume I do not need to +recall all the incidents of our afternoon, or of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +our pitching camp by the riverside an hour before +sundown—I learned what was the subject +of their argument. I had been admitted to the +pirates’ band, but the question was over my name.</p> + +<p>We sat by our fireside, before our little tent, +after a pleasant meal which I know was well +cooked because I cooked it myself—trout, a young +squirrel, and toast, and real coffee—and Partial +was close at my knee, having obviously adopted +me. We were fifteen or twenty miles from my +house, nearly twice that from their homes, but +the world, itself, seemed very remote from us. +We reveled in a new luxurious world of rare +deeds, rare dreams all our own. I was conjuring +up some new argument to put before Helena +should I ever see her again—as of course I never +should—when Lafitte rolled over on the grass +and looked up at us.</p> + +<p>“We was just saying,” he remarked, “that you +didn’t have no name.”</p> + +<p>“That is true. I have not told you my name, +nor have you asked it. Had you been impolite, +you might have learned it by prying about my +place.” I spoke gravely and with approval.</p> + +<p>“No, we didn’t know who you was.”</p> + +<p>“Let it be so. Let me be a man of no name. +A name is of no consequence, and neither am I.”</p> + +<p>“Sho, now, that ain’t so. I never seen a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +better—now, I never seen—” Jean Lafitte’s reticence +in friendship, again, was getting the better of +him.</p> + +<p>“So we said we’d call you Black Bart,” added +L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>“That is a most excellent name,” said I after +some thought. “At present, I can find no objection +to it, except that I wear no beard at all and +would have a red or brown one if I did; and that +Black Bart was rather a pirate of the land than +of the sea.”</p> + +<p>“Was he?” queried L’Olonnois. “Wasn’t he a +pirate, too, never?”</p> + +<p>“There was a famous pirate chief known as +Bluebeard or Blackbeard, and it may be, sometimes, +they called him Black Bart.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t he a awful desper’t sort of pirate?”</p> + +<p>“He is said to have been.”</p> + +<p>“It sounds like a awful desper’t name,” said +Jimmy: “like as though he’d fill up his ship with +captured maidens, an’ put all rivals to the sword.”</p> + +<p>“Such, indeed, shipmate,” said I, “was his +reputation.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” concluded L’Olonnois, “we couldn’t +think o’ any better name’n that, because we know +that is just what you would do.”</p> + +<p>(So, then, my reputation was advancing!)</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t you never a pirate before, honest?” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +queried Lafitte at this juncture. “Because, you +seem like a real pirate to us. We been, lots of +times, over on the lake.”</p> + +<p>“It may be because my father was always +called a pirate,” I replied. “You see, in these +days, there are not so many pirates who really +scuttle ships and cut throats.”</p> + +<p>“But you would?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly. ’Tis in my blood, my bold shipmate.”</p> + +<p>“We knew it,” concluded L’Olonnois calmly. +“So, after now, we’ll call you Black Bart. You +can let your whiskers grow, you know.”</p> + +<p>“True,” said I. “Well, we will at least take +the whiskers under advisement, as the court would +say.”</p> + +<p>“We must be an awful long ways from home,” +ventured L’Olonnois, after a time.</p> + +<p>“Hundreds of miles our good ship has ploughed +the deep, and as yet has raised no sail above the +horizon,” I admitted.</p> + +<p>“Do you—now—do you—well, anyhow, do you +have any idea of where we are going?” demanded +Lafitte, shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>“Not in the slightest.”</p> + +<p>“But now—well—now then——”</p> + +<p>In answer I drew from my pocket a map and +a compass; the latter mostly for effect, since I +knew very well the bed of our river must shape +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +our course for many a mile. On the map I pointed +out how, presently, our river would run into a +lake, into which, also, ran another river; and would +emerge on the other side much larger. I showed +them that down that other river, as, indeed, down +mine, logs used to float from the pine forests—many +of my father’s logs, of ownership said to +have been piratical—and I showed how, presently, +this stream would carry us into one of the ancient +waterways down which millions of wealth in +timber have come; and explained about the wild +crews of river runners who once ran the rafts +down that great highway, and into the greater +highway of the Mississippi; whence men might in +due time arrive upon the Spanish Main.</p> + +<p>“Is there any way a fellow can get across from +Lake Michigan into the Mississippi River?” demanded +Lafitte, who was of a practical turn of +mind: and on the map I showed him all the old +trails of the fur traders, explorers and adventurers, +French and English, who had discovered our +America long ago; whereat their eyes kindled and +their tongues went dumb.</p> + +<p>At last, I told them we must to our hammocks; +and soon our bloody band was deep in sleep. At +least, so much might have been said for Lafitte +and L’Olonnois. Alone of the band of sea rovers +myself, Black Bart, sat musing by the fire, the +head of my friend, Partial, in my lap.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE HAVE AN ADVENTURE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">O</span>UR band of hardy adventurers arose with +the sun on the morning following our first +night in bivouac, and by noon of that day, thanks, +perhaps, in some measure to my own work at the +oars, and a sail which we rigged from a corner +of the tent, we had passed into and through the +lake which our map had showed us. Now we +were below the edge of the pine woods, and our +stream ran more sluggishly, between banks of cattails +or of waving marsh grasses. We put out a +trolling line, and took a bass or so; and once +Lafitte, firing chance-medley into a passing flock +of plover, knocked down a half-dozen, so that we +bade fair to have enough for dinner that night. It +was all a new world for us. No one might tell +what lay around the next bend of our widening +waterway. We were explorers. A virgin world +lay before us. The nature of the country along +the stream kept the settlements back a distance; +so that to us, now, in reality, retracing one of +the ancient fur-trading routes, we might almost +have been the first to break these silences.</p> + +<p>Toward nightfall we came into a more rolling +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +and more park-like region; our prow was now +heading to the westward, for the general course +of the great river beyond. I had no notion to visit +the city of Chicago, and our route lay far above +that which must be taken by any large craft bound +for the Mississippi route to the Gulf.</p> + +<p>Farms now came down to the water’s edge in +places, villages offered mill-pond dams—around +which, in scowling reticence, we portaged the <i>Sea +Rover</i>, unmindful alike of queries and of jeers. +I found time to post additional letters now. Indeed, +I was preparing for a long and determined +enterprise. It was the <i>Sea Rover</i> against the +<i>Belle Helène</i>; and, did the skipper of the latter +loll along in flanneled ease and luxury, not so +with the hardy band of cutthroats who manned +our smaller and more mobile craft, men used to +hardships, content to drink spring water instead +of sparkling wines, and to eat the product of their +own weapons.</p> + +<p>We were I do not know how far from our first +encampment, perhaps thirty miles or more, when +toward five o’clock of the evening we concluded +to land at a wooded grassy bank which offered +a good camping place. We made all fast, and in +a few moments had our tent up and a little fire +going, Lafitte and L’Olonnois, at this, happy as +any two pirates I ever have seen; and were on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +the point of spreading our canvas table cover upon +the grass, when we heard a gruff voice hail us.</p> + +<p>“Heh! What’re you doin’ there?”</p> + +<p>We turned, expecting to meet some irate farmer +on whose land perhaps we innocently were trespassing; +but the figure which now emerged from +the screening bushes was rougher, bolder, and in +some indescribable way wilder, than that of a +farmer. I could not, at first, assign the fellow a +place, for I knew this was an old and well settled +country, and not supposed to be overrun with +tramps or campers. He was a stout man nearly of +middle age, dirty and ill clad, his coarse shirt open +at the neck, his legs clad in old overalls, his hat and +shoes very much the worse for wear. His face +was covered with a rough beard, and so brown and +so begrimed that, at once, I guessed this must be +some dweller in the open. Yet he seemed no +tramp; and even if he were, he had no right to +hail us in this fashion.</p> + +<p>I only looked at him, and made no answer, +feeling none due. He came out into the open, +followed by a nondescript dog, which had the lack +of decency—and also of discretion—to attack my +dog Partial with no parley or preliminary. I wot +not of what stock Partial came, but somewhere +in his ancestry must have been stark fighting +strain. Mutely and sternly, as became a gentleman, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +he joined issue; and so well had he learned +the art of war that in the space of a few moments, +in spite of the loud outcry of the owner of the invading +cur, he had him on his back in a throat +grip which was the end of the battle and bade fair +soon to be the end of the enemy.</p> + +<p>The man who had accosted us caught up a club +and made toward Partial with intent to kill him. +Then, indeed, we all sprang into action. In two +strides I was before him.</p> + +<p>“Drop that!” I said to him quickly, but I hope +not angrily. “Call him off, Jack!” I cried to +Lafitte at the same time.</p> + +<p>The sound of conflict ceased as Partial was +persuaded to release his fallen foe, and the latter +disappeared, with more wisdom as to attacking +a band of pirates. His owner, however, was not +so easily daunted. He still advanced toward Partial, +and as I still intervened, he made a vicious +side blow at me with his club.</p> + +<p>It all happened, almost, in the twinkling of an +eye. Here, then, was an adventure, and before +the end of our second day!</p> + +<p>There was not time to learn or to ask the reason +for this man’s animosity toward us, and, indeed, +no thought of that came to my mind. A man +may lay tongue to one—within certain bounds—and +one will only walk away from him; but the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +touch of another man’s hand or weapon is quite +another matter. That arouses the unthinking +blood, and follows then, no matter the issue, the +<i>gaudium certaminis</i>, with no care as to odds or +evens. Wherefore, even as the club whizzed by +to my side step, I came back from the other foot +and smote the hostile stranger on the side of the +neck so stiffly that he faltered and almost +dropped. Then seeing that I was so much lighter +than himself and perhaps valuing himself against +me purely on a basis of avoirdupois, pound for +pound, he gathered and came at me, roaring out +blasphemy and obscenity which I had rather Lafitte +and L’Olonnois had not heard.</p> + +<p>I had not often fought in fact, but knew that, +sometimes, a gentleman must fight. What astonished +me now was the fact that fighting contained +no manner of repugnance to me. With a certain +joy I met my foe, circled with him, exchanged +blows with him—unequally it is true, for I was +cool as though trying a cause at law, and he was +very angry: so that he got most of my leads, and +I but few of his, albeit jarring me enough to make +my ears sing and my eyes blur somewhat, although +of pain I was no more conscious than a fighting +dog. The turf was soft underfoot, and the space +wide, so that we fought very happily and comfortably +over perhaps a hundred feet of country, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +first one and then the other coming in; until at +last I had him so well blown that he stood, and +I knew we must now end it toe to toe. I bethought +me of a trick of my old boxing teacher, +and stood before him with arms curved wide +apart, inviting him to come into what seemed an +opening. He rushed, and my left fist caught him +on the neck. He straightened to finish me, but I +stooped and brought my right in a round-arm +blow, full and hard into the small of his back +and at one side. It sickened him, and before he +could rally, I stepped behind him, and having +no ethics save the necessity of subduing him, I +caught up his arm by the wrist, and slipping +under it with my shoulder, pulled it down till he +howled: a trick, only one of very many, which +Hiroshimi patiently had taught me.</p> + +<p>That very naturally ended our contest, and it +was near to ending our war-like neighbor as well. +During this warfare, which was short or long, I +knew not, my associates, stunned and perhaps +fearful, had sat silent; at least, I neither heard +nor saw them. But now, all at once, over my +shoulder I saw both Lafitte and L’Olonnois running +in to my assistance. Each held in hand a +bared blade of the samurai, and had I not shouted +out to them to refrain, I have small doubt that in +the most piratical and unsamuraic fashion they +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +mayhap would have disemboweled my captive; for +the old swords were keen as razors, and my +friends were as red of eyesight as myself.</p> + +<p>“No! No!” I called to them, even as our victim +writhed and roared in terror. “Drop your +weapons—that isn’t fair.” They obeyed, shamefacedly +and with regret, as I am convinced: for +illusion with them, at times, indeed overleaped +the centuries, and they were back in a time of +blood: even as I was in a stone-age wrath for +my own part.</p> + +<p>“Come here, Jack,” I ordered, “and you, too, +Jimmy. Do you see how I have him?”</p> + +<p>They agreed. “It’s a peach,” said Lafitte. +“Make him holler!”</p> + +<p>“No,” I replied, easing off the strain on the +wrenched arm, “he has already ‘hollered.’”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sure, ’nuff, ’nuff!——ye!” cried our captive, +who, now, was in mortal terror and much +contrition, seeing both flesh and blood and cold +steel had all the best of him. “Lemme go!”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” I assented; “we did not ask you +to come, and do not want you to stay. But, first, +I must use you in a few demonstrations to my +young friends. Jack,”—and I motioned to him +with my head—“get behind him.”</p> + +<p>Eagerly, his three-cornered gray eyes narrowed, +Lafitte skipped back of my man, and with no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +word from me he fastened on the other wrist so +suddenly the man had no warning, and with a +strong heave of all his body he doubled that arm +up also. Much roaring now, and many protestations, +for when our prisoner began with abuse, we +could change it into supplication by raising his +bent arms no more than one inch or two.</p> + +<p>“Now, Jimmy,” said I, “go in front of him, +and put a thumb in the corner of his jaw, on each +side. Press up until he begs our pardon.” And, +faith, my blue-eyed pirate, so far from shuddering +at the task, at last managed to find those certain +nerve centers known to all efficient policemen; and +very promptly, the man made signs he would like +to beg the boy’s pardon and did so.</p> + +<p>“Now, give me that arm, Jack,” I resumed +calmly, since our subject had no more fight left +in him than a sack of meal. “So. Now go +around and put your thumbs in his eyes—no, not +really in his eyes, but in the middle of the bone +above his eyes. So. Now, ask this boy’s pardon, +or I’ll twist your arms off.” And he asked it.</p> + +<p>“You couldn’t do it if you’d fight fair!” he +bellowed.</p> + +<p>“Could I not?” I asked. And cast him free. +“Come on again, then.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid of them kids,” said he. “They’d +stick me.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +“No, they would not,” said I; but still he would +not come on. Then I made a quick catch at his +wrist, edgewise, and rolled my thumb along it at +a certain place where the nerves lie close to the +edge of the bone, as any policeman knows; and he +would follow me, then. So I led him to our little +camp-fire.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said I to him, “be seated,” and he sat. +I asked him if he would shake hands with me and +my boys and make up. He was very sullen, but, +at last, did so, not cheerfully, I fear, for he was +not of good blood.</p> + +<p>“Tell me,” I demanded then, seeing that the +triumph of calm reason had been sufficient in his +case, “why did you come here, and why do you +try to drive us off, who are only on a peaceful +journey as pirates, seeking our fortune?”</p> + +<p>“Pirates!” he exclaimed. “Just what I thought. +What’s the use my leasin’ the pearl fer a mile +along here if anybody can come and camp, and +go to work, right alongside o’ me? If old farmer +Snider, that owns this land, hadn’t gone to town +I’d have the law on ye. Me payin’ my money in +and gettin’ no protection. Fishin’s rotten, too!”</p> + +<p>I now perceived that we had encountered one +of those half-nomad characters, a fresh-water +pearl fisherman, such as those who, for some +years, with varying fortune, have combed the sand-bars +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +of our inland river for the fresh-water mussels +which sometimes, like oysters, secrete valuable +pearls or nacreous bits known as slugs. This explained +much to me.</p> + +<p>“I know the law,” said I. “Farmer Snider can +not lease the highway of yonder river where the +<i>Sea Rover</i> passes. But I know also the law of +the wilderness. One trapper does not intrude on +another who has first located his country. We will +pass on to-morrow. Meantime, if you don’t mind, +we will go with you to your camp and see how you +do your work. Please forget that we have had +any trouble. Had you but spoken thus at first, +and not borne war against these bold pirates, all +would have been well.”</p> + +<p>He looked at me oddly, evidently thinking my +mind touched.</p> + +<p>“Come!” I said, wiping the blood from my face, +and passing him also a basin of water, “you fought +well and the wonder is you did not kill me with +one of those swings or swipes of yours. They +were crooked and awkward, but they came hard.”</p> + +<p>He grinned and saved his face further by saying: +“Well, you was three to one ag’in me.” I +smiled and let it stand so: and after a while, he +arose stiffly and we all passed back into the wood.</p> + +<p>We found that we were upon a little island, +between two shallow arms of the stream. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +camp of the pearl fisher lay at the lower end; and +never have I seen or smelled so foul a place for +human habitation. The one large tent served as +shelter, and a rude awning sheltered the ruder +table in the open air. But directly about the tent, +and all around it in every direction, lay heaps of +clam shells, most of them opened, some not yet +ready for opening. I had smelled the same odor—and +had not learned to like it—in far-off Ceylon, +at the great pearl fisheries of the Orient. +The “clammer” seemed immune.</p> + +<p>Presently, he introduced to us a woman, very +old, extraordinarily forbidding of visage, and unspeakably +profane of speech, who emerged from +the tent; his mother, he said. It seemed that they +made their living in this way, clamming, as they +called it, all the way from Arkansas to the upper +waters of the Mississippi. They had made this +side expedition up a tributary, in search of country +not so thoroughly exploited; without much success +in their venture, it seemed. The old lady, her head +wrapped in a dirty shawl, sat down on an empty +box, and stroked a large and dirty Angora cat, +another member of the family, the while she bitterly +and profanely complained. It was now dusk, +and she did not notice anything out of the way +in her son’s rather swollen nose and lips.</p> + +<p>I explained to Lafitte and L’Olonnois that we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +were now come into the neighborhood of possible +treasure, and the sight of a few pearls, none of +very great worth, which the old crone produced +from a cracker box, was enough to set off Jimmy +L’Olonnois, who was all for raiding the place.</p> + +<p>“What!” he hissed to me in an aside. “Did +we not spare his life? Then the treasure should +be ours!”</p> + +<p>“Wait, brother,” said I. “We shall see what +we shall see.” And I quieted Lafitte also, who +was war-like at the very sound of the word pearl. +“Them’s what they take from the Spanish ships,” +said he. “Pearls is fitten for ladies fair. An’ here +is pearls.”</p> + +<p>“Wait, brother,” I demanded of him. For I +was revolving something in my mind. I presently +accosted the clammers.</p> + +<p>“Listen,” said I, “you say business is bad.”</p> + +<p>“It certainly and shorely is,” assented the old +dame, fishing a black pipe out of her pocket, and +proceeding to feed it from another pocket, to the +discomfort of the soiled Angora cat.</p> + +<p>“Well, now, let me make you a proposition,” +said I, taking a glance at the heap of fresh shell +which lay beyond the racks of trolling lines and +their twisted wire hooks, by means of which +dragging apparatus the mussels are taken—shutting +hard on the wire when it touches them as they lie +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +feeding with open mouths—“you’ve quite a lot of +shell there, now.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but what’s in it? Button factories all +shut down with a strike, and no market: and as +for pearls, they ain’t none. Blame me for carryin’ +a grouch?”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least. But what will you take for +your shells, and agree to open them for us, at +wages of five dollars a day?”</p> + +<p>“Both of us?” he demanded shrewdly. I smiled +and nodded. “It’s more than you average, twice +over,” said I, “and you say the stream is no good. +Now I, too, am a student of the great law of +averages, because I am or was a director in a +great life insurance company. You say the luck +is bad. Like other adventurers, I say that under +the law of averages, it is time for the luck to +change.”</p> + +<p>“The luck’s with you,” growled the clammer, +“it’s ag’in me.” Unconsciously, he put a finger to +his swollen nose. “What’ll you gimme?” he demanded.</p> + +<p>“One hundred dollars bonus and ten dollars a +day,” said I promptly; and he seemed to know I +would not better that.</p> + +<p>“Who are ye?” he queried: “a buyer?”</p> + +<p>“No, a pirate.”</p> + +<p>“I believe ye. I never saw such a outfit.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +“Will you trade?” I asked; “and how long will +it take to open the lot?”</p> + +<p>“Nigh all day, even if we set up all night and +roasted.” He nodded to a wide grating; and the +ashes underneath showed that in this way the poor +clams, like the Incas of old, were sometimes forced +to give up their treasures by the persuasion of a +fire under them.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” I said. “We’ll call it a day. +That’s a hundred and ten dollars for you by this +time to-morrow. I invoke the aid of capital and +of chance, both, against you. You will very likely +lose: but if so, it would not be the first time +the producer of wealth has lost it. But I make +the wager fair, as my reason tells me I should.”</p> + +<p>“Ye’re a crazy bunch, and I think ye’re out of +the state asylum over yonder,” broke in the old +woman, “but what the hell do we care whether +ye’re crazy or not? Ye look like ye had the money. +Jake, we’ll take him up.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Jake. “We’ll go ye.”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow morning, then,” said I; and our +party rose to return to our camp, where Partial +greeted us with warmth; he having assigned to +himself the duty of guard. And so, as Pepys +would say, to bed; although Lafitte and L’Olonnois +scarce could sleep.</p> + +<p>“Let him attempt to make a run for it, after +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +we have hove him to, and we will board him and +give no quarter!” This was almost the last of +the direful speech I heard from L’Olonnois, as at +last I turned myself to a night of deep and peaceful +slumber.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE TAKE MUCH TREASURE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“Y</span>OU must be awful rich, Black Bart,” said +L’Olonnois to me as we sat on the grass, +at breakfast, the following morning.</p> + +<p>“No, Jimmy,” I replied, putting down my coffee +cup, “on the contrary, I am very poor.”</p> + +<p>“But you have all sorts of things, back there +where you live; and last night you said you would +pay that man a hundred dollars, just to open a +lot of clam shells. Now, a hundred dollars is a +awful sight of money.”</p> + +<p>“That depends, Jimmy,” I said.</p> + +<p>“’N’ we’d ought to <em>take</em> them pearls,” broke in +Lafitte. “Didn’t we lick him?”</p> + +<p>“We did, yes; twice.” And in my assent I felt, +again, a fierce satisfaction in the first conquest of +our invader, that of body to body, eye to eye; +rather than in the one where I brought intellect +to aid in war. “But there are two ways of being +a pirate. Let us see if we can not win treasure +by taking a chance in logic, and so be modern +pirates.”</p> + +<p>They did not understand me, and went mute, +but at last Jimmy resumed his catechism. “Who +owns the place where you live, Black Bart?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +“I do.”</p> + +<p>“But how much?”</p> + +<p>“Some five or six miles.”</p> + +<p>“Gee! That must be over a hundred acres. I +didn’t know anybody owned that much land. +Where’d you get it?”</p> + +<p>“In part from my father.”</p> + +<p>“What business was he in?”</p> + +<p>“He was a pirate, Jimmy, or at least, they said +he was. But my mother was not.—I will tell +you,” I added suddenly: “my father owned a great +deal of timber land long ago, and iron, and oil, +and copper, when nobody cared much for them. +They say, now, he stole some of them, I don’t +know. In those days people weren’t so particular. +The more he got, the more he wanted. He never +was a boy like you and me. He educated me as +a lawyer, so that I could take care of his business +and his property, and he trained me in the pirate +business the best he could, and I made money too, +all I wanted. You see, my father could never get +enough, but I did; perhaps, because my mother +wasn’t a pirate, you see. So, when I got enough, +my father and mother both died, and when I began +to see that, maybe, my father had taken a little +more than our share, I began trying to do something +for people ... but I can’t talk about that, +of course.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +“Well, why not?” demanded Lafitte. “Go on.”</p> + +<p>“A fellow doesn’t like to.”</p> + +<p>“But what did you do?”</p> + +<p>“Very little. I found I could not do very much. +I gave some buildings to schools, that sort of +thing. No one thanked me much. A good many +called me a Socialist.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that—a Socialist?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you. Nobody knows. But really, +I suppose, a Socialist is a man born before the +world got used to steam and electricity. Those +things made a lot of changes, you see, and in the +confusion some people didn’t get quite as square +a deal as they deserved; or at least, they didn’t +think they had. It takes time, really, as I suppose, +to settle down after any great change. It’s +like moving a house.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Jimmy sagely. “But, Black Bart, +you always seemed to me like as if, now, well, +like you was studyin’ or something, somehow. +Ain’t you never had no good times before?”</p> + +<p>“No. This is about the first really good time +I ever had in all my life. You see, you can’t really +understand things that you look at from a long +way off—you’ve got to get right in with folks to +know what folks are. Don’t you think so?”</p> + +<p>“I know it!” answered Jimmy, with conviction. +And I recalled, though he did not, the fact that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +he bathed daily, Lafitte weekly, yet no gulf was +fixed between their portions of the general humanity.</p> + +<p>“It must be nice to be rich,” ventured Lafitte +presently. “I’m going to be, some day.”</p> + +<p>“Is that why you go a-pirating?” I smiled.</p> + +<p>“Maybe. But mostly, because I like it.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a sort of game,” said L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>“All life is a sort of game, my hearties,” said +I. “What you two just have said covers most of +the noble trade of piracy and nearly all of the +pretty game of life. You are wise as I am, wise +as any man, indeed.”</p> + +<p>“What I like about you, Black Bart,” resumed +L’Olonnois, naively, “is, you seem always fair.”</p> + +<p>I flushed at this, suddenly, and pushed back my +plate. “Jimmy,” said I at last, “I would rather +have heard that, from you, than to hear I had +made a million dollars from pearls or anything +else. For that has always been my great hope +and wish—that some day I could teach myself +always to be fair—not to deceive anybody, most +of all not myself; in short, to be fair. Brother, +I thank you, if you really believe I have succeeded +to some extent.”</p> + +<p>“Why ain’t you always jolly, like you was havin’ +a good time, then?” demanded my blue-eyed inquisitor. +“Honor bright!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +“Must it be honor bright?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will tell you. It is because of the first +chapter of Genesis, Jimmy.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Fie! Fie! Jimmy, haven’t you read that?” +He shook his head.</p> + +<p>“I’ve read a little about the fights,” he said, +“when Saul ’n’ David ’n’ a lot of ’em slew them +tens of thousands. But Genesis was dry.”</p> + +<p>“Do you remember any place where it says +‘Male and female created He them’?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; but what of it? That’s dry.”</p> + +<p>“Is it, though?” I exclaimed. “And you with +an Auntie Helena, and a brother Black Bart. Jimmy +L’Olonnois, little do you know what you say!”</p> + +<p>“Well, now,” interrupted the ruthless soul of +Jean Lafitte, “how about them pearls?”</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” assented Jimmy. “Pearls is booty.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, then, shipmates,” I assented, “as +soon as we have washed the dishes, we will see +what can be done with the enemy yonder.”</p> + +<p>We found our two clammers, the young man +and his crone of a mother, up betimes and hard +at work, as evil-looking a pair as ever I saw. The +man’s face was still puffed and discolored, where +my fists had punished him, and his disposition had +not improved overnight. His hag-like dam also +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +regarded us with suspicion and disfavor, I could +note, and I saw her glance from me to her son, +making mental comparisons; and guessed she had +heard explanations regarding black eyes which did +not wholly satisfy her.</p> + +<p>They had already roasted open and examined +quite a heap of shells by the time we arrived, and +I inquired, pleasantly, if they had found anything. +The man answered surlily that they had not; but +something made me feel suspicious, since they +had made so early a start. I saw him now and +then wipe his hands on his overalls, and several +times noted that as he did so, his middle finger +projected down below the others, as though he +were touching for something inside his pocket, +which lay in front, the overalls being made for a +carpenter, with a narrow pocket devised for carrying +a folded foot-rule. But I could see nothing +suggested in the pocket.</p> + +<p>“That’s too bad,” I said pleasantly. “It looks +as though I were going to lose my hundred, doesn’t +it? Still, the day is long.”</p> + +<p>I busied myself in watching the deft work of +the two as they opened the shells started by the +heat, sweeping out the fetid contents, and feeling +in one swift motion of a thumb for any hidden +secretion of the nacre. Nothing was found while +I was watching, and as I did not much like the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +odor, I drew to one side. I found L’Olonnois and +Lafitte standing apart, in full character, arms +folded and scowling heavily.</p> + +<p>“If yonder villain plays us false,” said Lafitte +between his clenched teeth, “he shall feel the vengeance +of Jean Lafitte! And I wouldn’t put it a +blame bit a-past him, neither,” he added, slightly +out of drawing for the time.</p> + +<p>“You are well named, Lafitte,” I smiled. “You +are a good business man. But the day is long.”</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, long, and I put in part of it +wandering about with Partial, hunting for +squirrels, which he took much delight in chasing +up trees. Again, I lay for a time reading one of +my favorite authors, the wise stoic, Epictetus, +tarrying over one of my favorite passages:</p> + +<p>“Remember that you are an actor of just such +a part as is assigned you by the Poet of the play; +of a short part, if the part be short, of a long part +if the part be long. Should He wish you to act +the part of a beggar, (‘or of a pirate,’ I interpolated, +aloud to myself, and smiling) take care +to act it naturally and nobly; and the same if it +be the part of a lame man, or a ruler, or a private +man. For this is in your power—to act well the +part assigned to you; but to choose that part is +the function of another.”</p> + +<p>I lay thoughtful, querying. Was I a rich man, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +or a poor man? Was I a ruler, or a private man, +or a lame man?... I asked myself many questions, +concluding that all my life I had, like most +of us all, been more or less a lame man and a +private man after all, and much like my fellow.... +It was a great day for me; since each day I +seek to learn something. And here now was I, +blessed by the printed wisdom of age and philosophy, +and yet more blessed by the spoken philosophy +of unthinking Youth.... I lay flat, my arms +out on the grass, and looked up at the leaves. I +felt myself a part of the eternal changeless +scheme, and was well content. It has always been +impossible for me to care for the little things of +life—such as the amassing of money—when I am +alone in the woods. I pondered now on the wisdom +of my teachers, Epictetus, Jimmy, John and +the author of the Book of Genesis.</p> + +<p>I arose at last with less of melancholy and more +of resolve than I had known for years. The world +swam true on its axis all around me; and I, who +all my life had been in some way out of balance +in the world, now walked with a strange feeling +of poise and certainty.... No, I said to myself, +I would argue no more with Helena. And meantime +since the Poet of the play had assigned me +the double rôle of pirate and boy, I was resolved +to act both “naturally and nobly.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +I could not have called either of my associates +less than natural and noble in his part, viewed as +I found them when at length I sought them to +partake of a cold luncheon. They stood apart, +gloom and stern dignity themselves, offering no +speech to the laboring clammers, who, by this time, +were but masses of evil odors and ill-temper in +equal parts.</p> + +<p>“I think he’s holdin’ out on us!” hissed Jean +Lafitte, as I approached. “Time and again I seen +the varlet make false moves. Let him have a +care! The eye of Jean Lafitte is upon him!”</p> + +<p>For my own part, I cared little for anything +beyond the sport in my pearl venture, but no man +likes to be “done,” so I joined the guard over the +pearl fishing. I could see little indication of success +on the part of the two clammers, who went +on in their work steadily, exchanging no more +than a monosyllable now and then, but who were +animated, it seemed to us, by the same excitement +which governs the miner washing gravel in his +pan. They scarce could rest, but went on from +shell to shell, opening each as eagerly as though +it meant a fortune. This of itself seemed to me +both natural and yet not wholly natural; for it was +now late in the day’s work. Why should they go +on quite so eagerly in what six hours of stooping +in the sun should have made monotonous routine?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +They showed me a few pieces they had saved, +splinters and slugs of nacre, misshapen and of no +luster, and sneered at the net results, worth, at +most, not so much as the day’s wages I was paying +either. I cared nothing for the results, and +smiled and nodded as I took them.</p> + +<p>Thus the day wore on till mid-afternoon, when, +such had been the zeal of the clammers, the heap +of bivalves was exhausted. They stood erect, +straightening their stiffened backs, and grinned as +they looked at me.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said the old hag, “I reckon ye’re satisfied +now that we know this business better’n you +do. He told ye there wasn’t no pearl in this river.”</p> + +<p>“No;” added her hopeful son, “an’ come to +think of it, how’d I ever know you had a hundred +dollars? I ain’t seen it yet. But we’ve done, so +let’s see it now.”</p> + +<p>I quietly opened my pocketbook and took several +bills of that yellow-backed denomination, and selected +one for him. He took it at first suspiciously, +then greedily, and I saw his eyes go to my +wallet. “I forgot,” said I, and took out two bills +of five dollars each, which I handed to him.</p> + +<p>“By golly!” said he, “so’d I forgot!”</p> + +<p>“Why did you forget about your wages?” I +asked, and looked at him keenly. He turned his +eyes aside.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +“This fresh-water pearl fishing,” said I, “has +many points of likeness to the ocean pearl fishing +in Ceylon.”</p> + +<p>“You been there?” he queried. “And why is +it like them?”</p> + +<p>“In several ways. It is, in the first place, all +a gamble. The pearl merchants buy the oysters +as I bought my mussels, by the lump and as a +chance, based on the law of average product. They +rot the oysters as you do the mussels. The smell +is the same: and many other things are the same. +For instance, it is almost impossible to keep the +diver from stealing pearls, just as it is hard to +keep the Kafirs from stealing the diamonds they +find in the mines.”</p> + +<p>I still was looking at him closely, and now I +said to him mildly, and in a low tone of voice, +“It would be of no use—I should only beat you +again; and I would rather spare your mother. +You see,” I added in a louder tone of voice, “the +natives put pearls in their hair, between their toes, +in their mouths—although they do not chew tobacco +as you do. One who merely put one in the +pocket of his overalls—if he wore overalls—would +be called very clumsy, indeed, especially if he had +been seen to do it.”</p> + +<p>Involuntarily, he clapped a hand on his pocket. +What would have been his next act I do not know, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +for at that moment I heard a voice call out sharply, +“Halt! villain. Throw up your hands, or by +heavens you die!” Turning swiftly, I saw Lafitte, +his pistol barrel rested in very serviceable fashion +in the crotch of a staff, the same as when he first +accosted me on my stream, glancing along the +barrel with an ominous gray eye again gone three-cornered.</p> + +<p>Before I could even cry out to him his warning +was effective. I saw my clam fisher go white +and put his hands over his head, the while his +dam ran screaming toward the tent—Jimmy +L’Olonnois at her heels, sword in hand, and warning +her not to get a gun, else her life’s blood would +dye the strand.</p> + +<p>Here, now, was a pretty pickle for a sworn servant +of the law to aid in making! A wrong move +might mean murder done by these imaginative +youths, and I no less than accessory, to boot; for, +surely, I had given them aid and violent counsel +in this drama which we all were playing so naturally, +if not so nobly. I hastened over to Lafitte +and called loudly to L’Olonnois, and commanded +Partial to drop the renewed encounter with the +clammers’ dog, which now, also, swiftly threatened +us. So, in a moment or two, I restored peace.</p> + +<p>I held out my hand to the clammer. “I didn’t +know you seen me,” said he simply; and placed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +in my hand three pearls, either of them worth +more than all I had paid him, and one of them the +largest and best I had ever seen—it is the pearl +famous as the “<i>Belle Helène</i>,” the finest ever taken +in fresh waters in America, so it is said by +Tiffany’s.</p> + +<p>I looked at him quietly, and handed him back +all but the one pearl. “I am sorry you were not +a better sport,” said I, “very sorry. Didn’t I play +fair with you?”</p> + +<p>“No,” said he. “Some folks have all the luck. +You come along here, rich, with all sorts of things, +you and them d——d kids, and you’d rob a man +like me out of what little he can make.”</p> + +<p>I was opening my wallet again. “I am sorry +to hear you say that,” said I, handing him two +bills of a hundred dollars each. “Sorry, because +it has cost you twenty-eight hundred dollars.”</p> + +<p>“My God, man, what do you mean?” he gasped, +even his fingers slow to take both money and contempt.</p> + +<p>“That the pearl is worth to me that much, since +I have purpose for it. I have more money than I +want, and fewer pearls like this than I want. It +would have given me the keenest sort of pleasure +to give you and your mother a few thousand dollars, +two or three, to set you up with a little +launch and an outfit enough to give you a good +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +start—and, perhaps, a good partner. As it is, you +are lucky my pirate brother has not blown a hole +through you, and that my other brother has not +shed the blood of your parent, if she have any. +You had a good chance, and like many another +man who isn’t good enough to deserve success, +you lost it. Do you know why you failed?”</p> + +<p>“It’s the luck,” said he. “I never had none.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I, “it is not that. So far as luck +goes, you are lucky you are alive. Little do you +know our desperate band. Little do you know +you have escaped the wrath of Lafitte, of L’Olonnois, +of Black Bart. Luck! No, that is not why +you failed.”</p> + +<p>“What then?” he demanded, still covetous, albeit +rueful, too, at what he vaguely knew was lost +opportunity.</p> + +<p>“It was because you did not play the part of +a clammer naturally and nobly,” I replied. “My +friend, I counsel you to read Epictetus—and while +you are at that,” I added, “I suggest you read also +that other classic, the one known as <i>The Pirate’s +Own Book</i>.”</p> + +<p>So saying, since he stood stupefied, and really +not seeing my hand, which I reached out to him +in farewell, I called to Partial, and followed by +the two stern and relentless figures, made our way +back to the spot where the good ship <i>Sea Rover</i> +lay straining at her hawser.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +“What ho! messmates!” I cried. “Fortune has +been kind to our bold band this day. We have +taken large booty. Let us up anchor and set sail. +Before yon sun has sunk into the deep we shall +be far away, and our swift craft is able to shake +off all pursuit.”</p> + +<p>“Whither away, Black Bart,—Captain, I mean!” +said Jean Lafitte (and I blushed at this title and +this hard-won rank, as one of the proudest of my +swiftly-following accomplishments in happiness).</p> + +<p>“Spang! to the Spanish Main,” was my reply.</p> + +<p>A moment later, the waves were rippling merrily +along the sides of the <i>Sea Rover</i> as she headed +out boldly into the high seas.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I SHOW MY TRUE COLORS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HERE were many lesser adventures in which +Lafitte, L’Olonnois and I shared on our voyage +through the long waterways leading down to +the great river, but of these I make small mention, +for, in truth, one boasts little of one’s deeds in +piracy after the fact, or of inciting piracy and +making accessories before the fact, the more especially +if such accessories be small but bloodthirsty +boys. These latter, let me plead in extenuation +of my own sins, already were pirates, and +set upon rapine. For my own part, seeing their +resolution to take green corn and other vegetables, +aye, even fowls, as part of the natural returns of +their stern calling, I made no remonstrances, not +the first leader unable to restrain his ruthless band, +but I eased my own conscience by leaving—quite +unknown to them,—sundry silver coins in cleft +sticks, prominently displayed, in the hope that +irate farmers might find them when, after our +departure, they visited the scenes of our marauding. +And to such an extent did this marauding +obtain that, by the time we had reached the Mississippi +River, I was almost wholly barren of further +silver coins.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +Many things I learned as we voyaged; as that +my dog Partial would, when asked, roll over and +over upon the ground, or sit up and bark—things +taught him by no man known in his history, so +far as Lafitte could recall it. And things I learned +regarding birds and small animals of which my +law books had told me nothing. As to mosquitoes, +I learned that, whereas they do not hurt a young +pirate, they do an old one; and I half resolved to +discontinue my book regarding them. Perhaps it +was not of first importance.</p> + +<p>But two things grew on me in conviction. First, +I loved Helena Emory more and more each day of +my life; and second, that I must see her at the first +moment possible—in spite of all my resolutions +to put her out of my life forever! And, these two +things being assured, when we saw the rolling +yellowish flood of the Father of the Waters at +last sweeping before us, I realized that, bound as +I was in honor to hold on with my faithful band, +our craft, the <i>Sea Rover</i>—sixteen feet long she +was, and well equipped with Long Toms and deck +cannonades—would have no chance to overtake +the <i>Belle Helène</i>, fastest yacht on the Great Lakes, +who might, so far as I could tell, at that very +moment be cleaving through the Chicago canal, +to enter the great river hundreds of miles ahead +of us.</p> + +<p>Wherefore, leaving my bold mates in bivouac +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +one day, I made journey to the nearest town. +There, I sent certain messages to anxious parents, +and left for them our probable itinerary as tourists +traveling by private conveyance. I could not +set our future dates and ports more closely together; +for, before I left town, I had purchased +a sturdy power boat of our own, capable of doing +her ten or twelve miles under her own petrol. I +was in no mind to fall farther and farther back +of the <i>Belle Helène</i> each day; and I counted upon +our piratical energy to keep us going more hours +a day than Cal Davidson—curses on him!—would +be apt to travel.</p> + +<p>I gave orders for immediate fitting of my new +craft, and delivery on the spot; and within the +hour, although regarded with much suspicion by +the town marshal and many leading citizens, I +set out for our bivouac, with the aid of the late +owner of the boat, to whom I gave assurance that +no evil should befall him. When we chugged +along the shore, and slackened opposite our camp, +I heard the stern voice of Lafitte hail us: “Ship +ahoy!” (Perhaps he saw me at the stern sheets.)</p> + +<p>“Aye! Aye! mate!” I answered, through my +cupped hands. “Bear a hand with our landing +line.” Whereat my hardy band came running +and made us fast.</p> + +<p>“What has gone wrong, Black Bart?” demanded +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +L’Olonnois, uncertain of my status. “Hast met +mishap and struck colors?”</p> + +<p>“By no means!” I rejoined. “This is a prize, +our first capture. And since she has struck her +colors, let us mount our own at her foremast and +ship our band to a bigger and faster craft.”</p> + +<p>The late owner, who bore the name of Robinson, +looked on much perplexed, and, I think, in +some apprehension, for he must have thought us +dangerous, whether sane or mad.</p> + +<p>“Who’ll run her?” he at length demanded of +me, looking from me to my two associates. Then +forth and stood Jean Lafitte; and answered a question +I confess I had not yet myself asked: “Ho! +I guess a fellow who can run a gasoline pump in +a creamery can handle one of them things. So +think not, fellow, to escape us!”</p> + +<p>I reassured Robinson, who was apparently ready +to make a run for it; and I explained to Lafitte +and L’Olonnois my plan.</p> + +<p>“We’ll by no means discard our brig, the original +<i>Sea Rover</i>,” said I, “and we’ll tow her along +as our tender. But we’ll christen the prize the +<i>Sea Rover</i> instead, and hoist our flag over her—and +paint on her name at the first point of call we +make. Now, let us hasten, for two thousand miles +of sea lie before us, and Robinson is also five +miles from home.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +But Robinson became more and more alarmed +each moment. He had my money, I his bill of +sale, but ride back to town with us he would not. +Instead, he washed his hands of us and started +back afoot—to get the town marshal, I was well +convinced. It mattered little to us; for once more +did sturdy Jean Lafitte more than make good his +boast. With one look at the gasoline tank to assure +himself that all was well, he made fast the +painter of the old <i>Sea Rover</i>, and even as L’Olonnois +with grim determination planted the Jolly +Rover above our bows, and as I tossed aboard the +cargo of our former craft, Lafitte cranked her up +with master hand, threw in the gear, and with a +steady eye headed her for midstream, where town +marshals may not come.</p> + +<p>I looked at my mates in admiration. They +could do things I could not do, and they faced +the future with no trace of hesitation. I caught +from them a part of this resolution I so long had +lacked. I added this to my determination to see +Helena Emory once more and soon as wind and +wave would allow. So that, believe me, the blood +rose quickly in my veins as I saw now we had +faster travel ahead of us.</p> + +<p>“Square away the main braces, my hearties!” +I called. “Break out the spinnaker and set the +jibs. It’s a wet sheet and a flowing sea, and let +any stop us at their peril!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +“Aye! Aye! Sir,” came the response of Jean Lafitte +in a voice almost bass, and “Aye! Aye! Sir,” +piped the blue-eyed Lieutenant L’Olonnois. The +stanch craft leaped ahead, wallowing in cross +seas till we reached the mid-current of the Mississippi’s +heavy flood, then riding and rising gamely +as she met wave after wave that came up-stream +with the head wind. The eyes of Lafitte gleamed. +L’Olonnois, hand over eyes, stood in our bows. +“Four bells, and all’s well!” he intoned in a vigorous +voice.</p> + +<p>It was my own heart made answer, in the sweetest +challenge it ever had given to the world: “All’s +well!” And far ahead I, too, peered across the +wave, seeking to make out the hull of fleeing craft +that bore treasure I was resolved should yet be +mine.</p> + +<p>“More sail, Officer!” I called to Jean Lafitte. +He grinned in answer.</p> + +<p>“You’re in a hurry, Black Bart. What makes +you?” And even L’Olonnois turned a searching +gaze upon me.</p> + +<p>“Then I’ll show you my true colors,” said I. +“I am more careless of taking treasure than of +capturing a certain maiden who flees before us +yonder on a swift craft, speedier than our own. +Lay me alongside of her, this week, next month, +this winter, and my share of the other booty shall +be yours!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +“Black Bart,” said Lafitte, “I knew something +was sort of botherin’ you. So, it’s you for the fair +captive, huh?”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH MY PLOT THICKENS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>E sped on now steadily, day by delightful day, +and ever arose in my soul new wonders +at the joy of life itself, things that had escaped +me in my plodding business life. Now and again, +I took from my pocket the little volume which +always went with me on the stream when I angled, +and which I confess sometimes charmed me away +from the stream to some shaded nook where I +might read old Omar undisturbed—as now I +might, with L’Olonnois at the masthead and Lafitte +at the wheel. And always these wise, reckless, +joyous pages of the old philosopher spelled +to me “Haste! Haste!”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.”<br /></span> +</div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Bird of Time has but a little way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>What truth, what absolute truth of the red-hot +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +spur lay in those words, lesson direst to me! What +had my life been, plodding in books to learn to +keep by forms of law the booty my father had +stolen? Away with it, then, for now the Bird +of Time was on the wing! Let me forget the +wasted years, spent in adding dollar to dollar; +for what could the highest pile of dollars mean +to a man who had missed what Lafitte and L’Olonnois +and Omar had in their teaching? The booty +of the world, the pearls of price, the casks of the +Wine of Life, are his only who takes them. They +can not be bought, can not be given. “Oh, haste! +Jean Lafitte, for my new knowledge indeed eats +at my soul. Hasten, for the Bird of Life is on +the wing, L’Olonnois.” So I spoke to them; and +they, feeling it all a part of the play, gravely answered +in kind, to what end that any who sought +to stay Black Bart and his crew did so at peril +of their blood.</p> + +<p>We came, I knew not after how many days forgotten +in detail—after passing, each avoided as a +pestilence, many cities prosperous in commerce—alongside +the river port of the city of St. Louis, +crowded with motley and misfit shipping of one +sort or other, where our craft might moor without +fear of exciting any suspicion, in spite of our +ominous name; for I had the precaution to lower +our flag of the skull and cross-bones.</p> + +<p>I sought out the man most apt to know of any +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +considerable vessels docking there, and made inquiry +for any power yacht one hundred and +twenty-five feet long, white and black ventilators, +white hull with blue line, flying the burgee <i>Belle +Helène</i>, or some such name. None could advise +me for a time, and I looked in vain, as I had in +every dock in six hundred miles, for the trim hull +of my yacht. At last one old mariner, in rubber +boots, himself skipper of a house-boat south-bound +for a winter’s trapping, admitted that he had seen +such a craft three days before!</p> + +<p>“Did she dock?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“Sure she did, and lay over night. I remember +it well enough, for I saw her tie up; and that +evening her owner went ashore and up-town, and +with him his bride, I reckon—handsomest girl in +all the town. They must have been married, for +he was lookin’ like he owned her. That was +lemme see, two days ago or maybe four. They +came aboard her next morning, all three—there +was a old party along, girl’s mother likely—around +eleven o’clock, and in a little while cast off and +went on down-river. As fine a boat as ever made +the river run—still as a mouse she was, but quick +as a cat, and around Ste. Genevieve, I reckon, +before I got back to my own scow after helping +them off here. No wonder her owner was proud. +He stood on the quarter-deck like a lord. Why +shouldn’t he, ownin’ a boat an’ a girl like that?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +“He doesn’t own either!” I retorted hotly.</p> + +<p>“Why, how do you know he don’t?” demanded +my sea-going man.</p> + +<p>“Who should know, if not myself?”</p> + +<p>“Sho! You talk like you owned her!”</p> + +<p>“I do own her!”</p> + +<p>“It looks like it. Which do you mean—her the +yacht, or her the girl?”</p> + +<p>“Both—no! That is, well at least I own the +boat.”</p> + +<p>“That may all be, or it all mayn’t,” he replied, +openly scoffing; “at least so far’s the boat goes. +Anybody kin buy anything that has the price. But +as to the girl, you’d have to prove it, if I was him. +And if he didn’t look like he owned her, or was +goin’ to, I’ll eat your own gas tank there, an’ them +two kids in it fer good measure.”</p> + +<p>Of course I could not argue or explain, and therefore +turned away. But all the answer of my soul +came from the lips of L’Olonnois, who, propped +up against the cockpit combing, was reading aloud +to Lafitte from <i>The Pirate’s Own Book</i> as I approached. +“Hah! my good man!” exclaimed the +pirate chieftain as he looked at his blade, “unhand +the maid, or by Heaven! your life’s blood shall +dye the deck where you stand!”</p> + +<p>“Ah, ha! Cal Davidson,” said I to myself +through my set teeth; “little do you think that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +you are discovered in your sins, and little do you +know that the avenger is on your track. But have +a care, for Black Bart and his band pursues you!”</p> + +<p>And, seeing that we had now laid in abundance +of ship’s stores, including four drums of gasoline; +and since the trail of Cal Davidson was, at least, +no wider than the banks of the river down which +he had fled, it looked ill enough for the chances +of that robber when the stanch <i>Sea Rover</i>, her +flag again aloft and promising no quarter, chugged +out into midstream and took up a pursuit which +was to know no faltering until at last I had learned +the truth about the fair captive of the <i>Belle +Helène</i>. For indeed, indeed, Omar, and you, too, +stout Lafitte and hardy L’Olonnois, the Bird of +Life was on the wing.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE CLOSE WITH THE ENEMY</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">C</span>AL Davidson took on five drums of petrol at +Cairo, and a like amount of champagne at +Memphis, and no man may tell what other supplies +at this or that other point along the river. He evidently +suspected no pursuit, or, if he did, was a +swaggering varlet enough, for, according to all +accounts which we could get, he loitered and +lingered along, altogether at his leisure, with due +attention to social matters at every port; for if +he had not a wife at every port, at least, he had +an acquaintance of business or social sort, so that, +one might be sure, there were few dull moments +for him and his party, whether afloat or ashore. +He must have attended a dinner-party and two +theaters at Memphis, and have sailed only after +making three thousand dollars out of a combination +in champagne present and cotton future, +whose disgusting details I did not seek to learn. +Trust Davidson to make money, and to make the +most of life also as he went along. He +always had the best of everything; and surely now +he had, for the leisurely, ease-seeking <i>Belle Helène</i>, +not actuated by any vast motive beyond that of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +the bee and the honey flower, slipped on down +and ahead with perfect ease, while we, grimy, +slow, determined, plowed on in her wake losing +miles each hour the graceful <i>Belle Helène</i> chose +to show us her light disdainful heels, serenely +indifferent because wholly ignorant of our existence.</p> + +<p>But we held to the chase as true pirates, not +loitering at any port, and—since now I, also, had +learned something of the intricacies of our engine, +and could take a trick while the others slept—running +twice the hours daily the haughty yacht +would deign to log. I knew that Cal Davidson +would stop to shoot and to visit, and knew that +he could, by no human means, be induced to pass +any telegraph point where the daily standing of +the baseball clubs could be learned—he counted +that day lost in which he did not learn the scores. +As for myself, I have never been able to understand +how any grown man or any one ungrown +can take any interest whatever in the deeds of +hired ball-playing Hessians, who have back of them +neither patriotism nor even a municipal pride. But, +for once, I was joyed that the organized business +sense of a few men had put an otherwise able citizen +under tribute, because now, though the <i>Belle +Helène</i> must pause at least daily, the <i>Sea Rover</i> +need do no such thing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +Nor did we. We were hot on the trail of the +enemy as he flew south along the Chickasha Bluffs, +hot as he left Memphis behind, and taking the +widening waters which now wandered through +low forest lands, reached out for the next city of +size, historic Vicksburg on her seventy hills. And +hot and eager, more than ever, were we when, +chugging around the head of that vast arm of +the river, where it curves like a boy of some +southern sea, with its heights rising beyond and +afar, we saw what caused me to exclaim aloud, +“At last! There she lies, my hearties!”</p> + +<p>I pointed on ahead. To my eyes, who had designed +her, every line of that long, graceful, white +hull was familiar. The jaunty rake of her air-shafts, +like stacks of a liner, the sweep of her clean +freeboard up to her shining rail, the ease of her +bows, the graceful boldness of her overhang—all +were familiar enough to me. She was my boat, +and once I was wont to enjoy her. And on board +her now was the woman who had taken away from +me all desire to keep a yacht in commission, to +keep open a house in town, or an office, or to frequent +my clubs, or to meet my friends. Was she +there, this woman; and was she still?—but I dared +not ask that question.</p> + +<p>“Full speed ahead, Jean!” I called. “That’s the +<i>Belle Helène</i>! Yonder lies the enemy!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +And then the inevitable happened. Perhaps it +was too much gas, perhaps too much lubricant, +perhaps a spark plug was carrying too much carbon. +At any rate, the engine of the <i>Sea Rover</i> +chose that time to chug and cease to revolve!</p> + +<p>It was more than a mile to the foot of that +vast curve; and even as I leaped at the grimy +oily motor, I saw a white dingey with blue trim +make out from the wharf and leisurely pull alongside +the landing stair of the yacht. It held two +figures only, that of the deck-hand who rowed, +and that of the large white-flanneled man who +now disembarked from the dingey and went +aboard the yacht. He was waving a paper over +his head, so that I inferred the Giants must have +won that day. And then, as we tugged and hurried +with our arbitrary motor, I saw the <i>Belle +Helène</i>, with a slight smiling salute to friends +ashore, swing daintily about and head out and +down the river! The faint and infallible rhythm of +her perfect enginery came throbbing to us across +the water ... I stood up. I hailed, I waved, I +shouted, and I fear even cursed. Perhaps they +thought some drunken fisherman was disporting +himself; but certainly, a few moments later, we +were rocking on the roll of the river, and the yacht +was out of sight and sound around the next great +bend.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +“It shall go hard but we overhaul yon varlet +yet,” said L’Olonnois grimly.</p> + +<p>“Aye,” assented Lafitte; “we’ve busted a plug, +an’ he has showed us a clean pair of heels, but +it’s a long chase if the <i>Sea Rover</i> does not overhaul +him. We’ll have to overhaul our engine +first, though,” he added thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>But the overhauling of our engine meant a +voyage under sweeps to a precarious landing +among divers packets, house-boats and launches, on +Vicksburg waterside, and a later visit to a specialist +in diseases of the carburetor; so that, when at +last the <i>Sea Rover</i> was ready for the sea again, +her chase might have been a hundred miles ahead +an she liked.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” exclaimed Jean Lafitte, as we were about +to cast off. “Looky here, de Cubs licked de G’ints +five to one to-day.” He pointed to figures in a +newspaper which he had obtained. So then it +might have been excitement of rage, and not of +joy, which had animated Cal Davidson when he +went aboard.</p> + +<p>“Never mind then,” said I, “for that gives us +a day’s start.”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean?” demanded Jean.</p> + +<p>“It means that yonder varlet will not leave Natchez +to-morrow until late evening, after the wires +are in from the northern ball games,” I replied. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +“Of course he’ll stop there next.” I felt now that +the Lord had, by implanting this insane lust of +petty baseball news in his soul, delivered my enemy +into my hand.</p> + +<p>Now I wist not how or at what dignified speed +the <i>Belle Helène</i> swept on down that mighty +river through the rich southern lands; nor do I +scarce half remember the painstaking persistent +run we made with the grimy <i>Sea Rover</i> in pursuit, +hour after hour, night or day. We had no +licensed pilot or licensed engineer, we bore no +lights as prescribed by law, and heeded no channels +as prescribed by government engineers. +Pirates, indeed, we might have been as we plowed +on down in the wake of our quarry, along the +ancient highway famous in fast packet days. We +cared nothing for law, order, custom, conventions, +precedents—the very things which had enslaved me +all my life I now cast aside. Through bend +after bend, along willow-lined flats and bluffs +crowned with stately, moss-draped live-oaks, we +swept on and on; and always I strained my eyes +to see, my ears to hear, on ahead some sign of +the <i>Belle Helène</i>; always strained my heart for +some sign from her. Why, even I looked in the +water for some bottle bearing a memory from yon +captive maid to me. Captive? Why, certainly +she must be captive; and certainly she must know +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +that I, Black Bart the Avenger, was upon the +trail.</p> + +<p>We made the pleasant city of Natchez in the +evening of the sweetest day on which, as I thought, +the sun had ever set. Her lofty hills—for here +the great eastern fence of hills which bound the +Vermont Delta on the eastward sweep in to close +the foot of the Delta’s V, and run sheer to the +river’s brink—rose upon our left. The low tree-covered +lands on the Louisiana side lay at our +right, and over them hung, center of a most radiant +evening curtain, painted in a thousand colors +by the mighty brush of nature, the round red orb +of day, now sinking to his rest.</p> + +<p>I did not begrudge the sun his rest that day. +For now, just at the edge of this beautiful picture +there hung, at the dry point where the old keel +boats used to land at old Natchez, under the hill +where the pirates of those days sought relaxation +from labors in the joys of combat or of wine, I +caught sight of the long, low, graceful hull of +the <i>Belle Helène</i>!</p> + +<p>“Avast! Jean Lafitte,” I cried. “Shorten all +sail, and bear across, west-by-west.”</p> + +<p>“Aye! Aye! Sir,” came the response from my +bold crew.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t we run in and board her?” demanded +L’Olonnois. However, seeing that I had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +laid hold of the steering line where I sat, and was +heading the <i>Sea Rover</i> across the Louisiana side, +away from the city’s water-front, he subsided.</p> + +<p>“We’ll cast anchor yonder where the holding +ground is good,” I explained. “To-night we’ll send +off the long boat with a boarding party. And +marry!” I added, “it shall go hard, but we’ll hold +yon varlet to his accounting!”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE BOARD THE ENEMY</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">S</span>LOWLY the vast painting of the sky softened +and faded until, at length, its edges blended +with the shadows of the forest. There came into +relief against the sky-line the etched outlines of +the trees crowning the bluff on the eastern side +of the great river. The oncoming darkness promised +safety for a craft unimportant as ours as +we now lay in the shadows of the western shore. +Meantime, as well as the failing light allowed, we +let nothing on board the <i>Belle Helène</i> go unobserved.</p> + +<p>The yacht lay—with an audacity of carelessness +which I did not like to note—hardly inside the +edge of the regular shipping channel, but swung +securely and gracefully at her cable, held by an +anchor which I had devised myself, heavy enough +for twice her tonnage. On the deck I could see +an occasional figure, but though I plied my binoculars +carefully, not the figure which I sought. A +man leaned against the rail, idly, smoking, but +this I made out to be the engineer, Williams, come +up to get the evening air. Billy, the deck-hand, +John, my Chinese cook, and Peterson, the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +boat-master, were at the time out of sight, as well as +Cal Davidson, who had her under charter.</p> + +<p>We lay thus, separated by some distance of the +river’s flood, each craft at anchor, only one observed +by the other. But to my impatient gaze +matters seemed strangely slow on board the <i>Belle +Helène</i>. I was relieved when at last the rather +portly but well groomed figure of my friend Davidson +appeared on deck. He made his way aft +along the rail, and I could see him bend over and +call down the companionway of the after staterooms. +Then, an instant later, he was joined on +the after deck by two ladies. The sight of one +of these caused my heart to bound.</p> + +<p>They stood for a moment, no more than dimly +outlined, but I could see them well enough. The +older lady, with the scarf about her head, was +Aunt Lucinda. The slighter figure in white and +wearing no head covering, was she, Helena Emory! +It was Helena! It was Helena!</p> + +<p>She turned toward Davidson. I could hear +across the water the sound of laughter. A sudden +feeling of anger came into my soul. I shifted +my position in the <i>Sea Rover</i>, and stepped on Partial’s +tail, causing him to give a sharp bark and to +come and lick my hand in swift repentance. I +feared for the time that his sound might attract +attention to our boat, which, if examined closely, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +might seem a trifle suspicious. True pirates, and +oblivious of all law, we had not yet hoisted our +riding lights, though for all I know our black flag +still was flying.</p> + +<p>The three figures passed forward along the +deck slowly and disappeared down the front companion-stair +which led to the cozy dining-room. I +could see them all sitting there, about my own +table, using the very silver and linen which I had +had made for the <i>Belle Helène</i>, attended by John, +my Chinese cook and factotum, whom I had especially +imported, selected from among a thousand +other Chinese by myself at Hankow. I knew that +Davidson would have champagne and a dozen +other wines in abundance, everything the market +offered. A pleasant party, this of three, which was +seating itself at my table over yonder, while I, in +a grimy, dingy, little tub lay looking at them, helpless +in the gloom! Ah, villain, shrewd enough you +were when you planned this trip for Aunt +Lucinda’s health! Well enough you knew that +of all places in the world none equals a well +equipped private yacht for the courting of a maid. +Why, if it be propinquity that does it, what chance +had any man on earth against this man, enjoying +the privilege of propinquity of propinquities, and +adding thereto the weapons of every courtesy, every +little pleasure a man may show a maid? Trust +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +Cal Davidson for all that! I well-nigh gnashed +my teeth in anger.</p> + +<p>I scarce know how the time passed, until at last +I saw them, in the illumination of the deck lights, +at length come on deck again. They stood looking +out over the river, or toward the lights of Natchez-under-the-Hill, +and at length idly walked aft once +more. The two ladies seated themselves on deck +chairs under the awning of the rear deck. I could +not see them now, but heard the tinkle and throb +of a guitar come across the water, touched lightly +with long pauses, as under some suspended melody +not yet offered in fulness. Now and again I could +hear a word or so, the rather deep voice of Aunt +Lucinda, the bass tones of Davidson, but strain +my ears as I might, I could not hear the sound of +that other voice, low and sweet, an excellent thing +in woman.</p> + +<p>At length the little party seemed to be breaking +up. I saw Davidson, half in shadow, outlined +by the deck lights as he rose, and passed forward. +Then I heard the falls run, and a soft splash as +the dingey was launched overside. Cal Davidson +was going ashore. He could no longer resist his +anxiety over the baseball score! A moment later +I heard the dip of the oars. Some one turned +on the search-light, so that a wide shaft of light +swung along the foot of Natchez Hill, toward +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +which the dingey was headed. The shadows on +the deck of the <i>Belle Helène</i> seemed darker now, +by contrast, but I believed that Williams, the engineer, +now had left the rail on which he was leaning +over his folded arms.</p> + +<p>I turned now to my wondering companions, who, +seeing me so much interested, had remained for a +long time practically silent. Fall now, curtain of +romance, for we be but three pirates here! Up +anchor, then, and back across the stream toward +our quarry quickly, my bold mates, for now there +lies at hand a dangerous work of the boarding +party!</p> + +<p>Thus I might have spoken aloud; for, at least, +I hardly needed to do more than motion to Jean +Lafitte, and as we resumed our softly chugging +progress, having broken out our shallow anchorage, +he steered the boat to the motion of my hand. We +passed close alongside the <i>Belle Helène</i> and I examined +her keenly as we did so. Then, apparently +unnoticed, we dropped down-stream a bit, and +found another anchorage.</p> + +<p>“Clear away the long boat for the boarding +party,” I now whispered hoarsely. I spoke to +companions now in full character. Belted and +armed, Lafitte and L’Olonnois rose ready for any +bold emprise, each with red kerchief pulled about +his brow. And now, to my interest, I observed that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +each had resumed the black mask which they had +worn earlier in our long voyage, sign of the +desperate character of each wearer.</p> + +<p>“Whither away, Black Bart?” demanded L’Olonnois +fiercely. “Lead, and we follow.”</p> + +<p>“You had better put on a mask, Black Bart,” +added Jean Lafitte, and handed me a spare one of +his own manufacture. I hesitated, but then, seeing +that part of my success lay in our all remaining +somewhat piratical of character, I hastily slipped +it above my eyes, and pulled down my hat brim. +“She will not know me now,” said I to myself. +And truly enough we seemed desperate folk, fierce +as any who ever lay in keel boat off the foot of +Natchez bluff, even in the bloodiest times of Mike +Fink the Keel-boatman or of Murrell the southern +bandit king.</p> + +<p>Partial, without invitation, climbed into the skiff +with us. “Cast off,” I ordered. “Oars!” And +my young men—whom by this time I had trained +in many ways nautical—obeyed in good seaman +fashion. A moment later we lay almost under the +rail of the <i>Belle Helène</i>. No one hailed us. We +seemed taken only for some passing skiff.</p> + +<p>“Listen!” I whispered, “there is risk in what +we are going to do.”</p> + +<p>I looked at my blue-eyed pirate, L’Olonnois, who +sat closer to me. On his face was simple and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +complete happiness. At last, his adventure had come +to him and he was meeting it like a man.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Black Bart?” I heard Jean Lafitte +whisper hoarsely.</p> + +<p>“We are to board and take yonder ship,” I replied +softly. “If we are to succeed, you must do +precisely as I tell you. Leave the main risk to me, +that of the law. I’ll take possession on the ground +that she is my boat, that her charter money is not +paid, and that yonder varlet is making away with +her out of the country. She holds much treasure, +let me assure you of that, my men—the greatest +treasure that ever came down this river.</p> + +<p>“Now, listen. You, Lafitte, as soon as we get +aboard, are to run and close the hatch of the engine-room. +That will pen Williams, the engineer, +below, where he can make no resistance. As soon +as that is done, run to those doors forward which +lead down to the dining-room companionway and +shut those doors and latch them. That will take +care of John, the cook. The deck-hand is away +with the varlet. That leaves only the shipmaster +and the women captives.</p> + +<p>“While you are busy in this way, Lafitte, I will +hunt for Peterson, the master, who very likely +is sitting quiet on the forward deck somewhere. +The main danger lies with him. While I attend to +him, you, L’Olonnois, run aft. You will find there +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +two ladies, one very old and ugly, the other very +young and very beautiful. See that they do not +escape, and hold them there until I come aft to +meet you.</p> + +<p>“All this must go through as we have planned. +Once the maiden is in our power, and the ship our +own, we will head down-stream for the open sea. +Are you with me, my bold mates?”</p> + +<p>“Lead on, Black Bart!” I heard L’Olonnois hiss; +and I saw Jean Lafitte tighten his belt.</p> + +<p>“All ready, then,” said I. “I’ll go forward and +make fast the painter when we reach the landing +stair. Follow me quickly. Leave Partial in the +boat. Gently now.”</p> + +<p>Swiftly but silently, we swept in under the lee +of the <i>Belle Helène</i>. The landing ladder had not +been drawn up after Davidson’s departure, so that +the boarding party had easy work ahead.</p> + +<p>I sprang upon the deck, my footfalls deadened +by the rubber matting which lay along all the +decks. I turned. Above the rail behind me rose +the face of Lafitte, masked. The long blade of a +Malay kris was in his teeth. In one hand he held a +pistol, using the other as he climbed. He scraped +out of his belt as he came aboard I know not how +many pistols which fell into the water, but still, +God wot! had abundant remaining. Nor did +L’Olonnois, close behind him, his Samurai sword +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +between his teeth, present a spectacle less awesome. +I breathed a sudden prayer that these might meet +with no resistance, else I could only fear the direst +consequences!</p> + +<p>I made a quick motion with my hand, even as +I sprang forward in search of Peterson. The dull +thud of the engine-room hatch, an instant later, +assured me that Lafitte had performed the most +important part of the work assigned to him. Forsooth, +ere long, he had done all his work as laid +out for him. It chanced that, as he sprang to the +doors of the forward saloon, he met John, the +Chinaman. Reaching for him with one hand, he +closed the doors with the other, with such promptness +and precision that the cue of John was caught +in the door and he was imprisoned below, where he +howled in much grief and perturbation, unable to +escape without the sacrifice of his cue.</p> + +<p>Meantime, I found Peterson, my old skipper, +much as I had expected. He was a middle-aged, +placid, well-poised man, a pessimist in speech, but +a bold man in soul. He was fond of an evening +pipe, and he sat now smoking and looking down +the illuminated lane made by our search-light. He +turned toward me, a sudden curiosity upon his +face as he saw that I was a stranger on the boat, +though not a stranger to himself.</p> + +<p>“Sir—Mr. Harry—” he began, half rising.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +I reached out my left hand and caught him by +the shoulder. In my right hand I held a pistol, +and this, somewhat gaily, I waved before Peterson’s +face. “Halt,” said I, “or I will blow you +out of the water”—a phrase which I had found +sufficient in earlier circumstances.</p> + +<p>The old man smiled pleasantly and in mock +fashion put up both his hands. Had it been anyone +else, he probably would have knocked me +down. “All right, Mr. Harry,” said he, “you will +have your joke. But tell me, what’s up? We +weren’t expecting you here. Mr. Davidson’s gone +ashore.”</p> + +<p>“Just a lark, Peterson,” said I. I had slipped +down the mask so that he could see me plainly. +“By George, sir!” said he, “I am glad to see you, +back on the old boat again. Where have you +been?”</p> + +<p>“Just come on board, Peterson,” said I. “I am +going to run her now myself.</p> + +<p>“Money not paid over, Peterson,” said I. It +stretched my conscience a bit, although the truth +was I had Davidson’s uncashed check in my +pocket at the time.</p> + +<p>“We’ve all had our pay regular,” he rejoined. +“Why, what’s wrong?”</p> + +<p>“But I haven’t had mine, Peterson,” said I. +“When the charter money isn’t paid and an owner +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +has reason to suppose that his boat is going to +be run out of the country, he has to act promptly, +you understand. So I have taken my own way. +The <i>Belle Helène</i> is in my charge now, and you +will report to me for orders.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that squalling?” demanded Peterson, +who was a trifle hard of hearing.</p> + +<p>“Something seems wrong with John, the cook,” +I answered. “I only hope he has not made any +resistance to my men, who, I promise you, are the +most desperate lot that ever cut a throat. For +instance, they have locked Williams down in the +engine-room. Go over there, Peterson, and quiet +him. But tell him that, if he shows a head above +the hatch, he is apt to have his brains blown out. +Keep quiet now, all of you, until I get this thing +in hand.”</p> + +<p>“But the boat’s under charter to Mr. Davidson,” +demurred Peterson.</p> + +<p>“Charter or no charter, Peterson,” said I, “I’m +in command here, and it’s no time to argue.”</p> + +<p>At this time we heard cries of a feminine sort +from the after deck, so I knew that L’Olonnois, as +well, had performed the duty assigned to him.</p> + +<p>“Stay here, Peterson,” said I. “It’s all right, and +I’ll take care of you in every regard. Wait a +moment.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<img src="images/tlatp04.jpg" width="375" height="500" +alt="Black Bart, disguised with hat and mask, points a gun at Helena" /> +<span class="caption">“Who are you?” she demanded</span> +</div> + +<p>I hurried aft. L’Olonnois stood in the shadow, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +his back against the saloon door, facing his two +prisoners. I also faced them now. The deck +lights gave ample illumination, so that I could see +her—Helena—face to face and fairly. She turned +to me; but now I had pulled up my mask again, +and she could have no more than a suspicion as +to my identity.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” she demanded. “What right +have you here?”</p> + +<p>For half a moment I paused. Then I felt a +sense of relief as I heard at my elbow the piping +voice of L’Olonnois in reply.</p> + +<p>“Lady,” said he, standing with folded arms, +his bared blade gripped in his good right hand and +showing at a short up-cast angle, “it ill beseems +a gentleman to give pain to one so fair, but prithee +have a care, for, by heavens! resistance is useless +here.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS ABOUNDING TROUBLE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span> LOOKED at Helena Emory, glad that she did +not at first sight recognize the intruder who +had elicited her wrath,—for she seemed almost +more angry than perturbed, such being her nature. +I thought she had never been half so beautiful as +now, never more alive, more vibrantly and dynamically +feminine than now. She had not even a +scarf about her head, so that all its Greek clarity +of line, all its tight-curling dark hair—almost +breaking into four ringlets, two at each white +temple—were distinct to me as I looked at her, +even in the half light. Her face, with its wondrous +dark eyes, was full toward me, meeting this danger +for such as it might be; so that, again, I saw the +sweet full oval of her brow and cheek and chin, +with just these two dark incipient curls above. I +could not see the twin dark tendrils at the white +nape of her neck, but I knew they were there, as +beautiful as ever. Her mouth was always the +sweetest God ever gave any woman—and I repeat, +I have seen and studied all the great portraits, and +found none so wholly good as that of Helena, done +by Sargent in his happiest vein. Now the red +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +bow of her lips parted, as she stood, one slender +hand across her bosom, panting, but not in the least +afraid, or, at least, meeting her fear boldly, as +one high-born should.</p> + +<p>She was all in white, with not the slightest jewel +or ornament of any kind. I saw that even the +buckle at her waist was covered in white. Her +boots and her hair were dark; for Helena knew +the real art of dressing. She stood fairly between +me and the deck light, so that all her white figure +was frank in its gentle curves; erect now, and +bravely drawn to all her five feet five, so that she +might meet my gaze—albeit through a mask—as +fully as a lady should when she has met affront.</p> + +<p>I always loved Helena, always, from the first +time I met her. I had bidden adieu to life when, +after many efforts to have her see me as I saw +her, I turned away to the long hard endeavor to +forget her. But now I saw my attempts had all +been in vain. If absence had made my heart more +fond, the presence of her made it more poignantly, +more imperiously, fonder than before. My whole +body, my whole soul, unified, arose. I stretched +out my arms, craving, demanding. “Helena!” I +cried.</p> + +<p>My voice was hoarse. Perhaps she did not know +me, even yet. Her answer was a long clear call +for help.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +“Ahoy!” she sang. “On shore, there—Help!”</p> + +<p>Her call was a signal for present trouble. Partial, +my dog, abandoned in the long boat, began +barking furiously. There came an answering hail +which assured me that yon varlet, Davidson, had +heard. I was conscious of the sound of a scuffle +somewhere forward. Below, at my side, Aunt +Lucinda gave voice to a long shrill wail of terror. +John, my Chinaman, his cue still held fast in the +jammed edges of the door, chimed in dismally. +Midships I heard a muffled knocking at Williams’, +the engineer’s, hatch.</p> + +<p>I forgot I was standing masked, with a naked +weapon in my hand. I dropped my mask, dropped +my weapon, and turned quickly toward Helena.</p> + +<p>“Be silent!” I commanded her.</p> + +<p>She stood for one instant, her hands at her +cheeks. Then, “Ahoy!” rang out her voice once +more in sheer disobedience, and “You!” she said +to me, furious.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I,” was my answer, and my own fury +was now as cold as hers. “Go below,” I ordered +her. “I am in command of this boat. Quick!”</p> + +<p>I had never spoken thus to her in all my life, +but almost to my surprise she changed now. As +though half in doubt, she turned toward the stair +leading down to the ladies’ cabin where Aunt Lucinda +was shrieking in terror.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +“Guard the door,” I called to L’Olonnois as I +turned away. I heard it slam shut and the click +of the lock told me my prisoners were safe, so I +hastened forward.</p> + +<p>“Good Lord, Mr. Harry!” cried my skipper, +Peterson, when he saw me. “Come here, take this +little devil—away—I’m afraid he’ll knife me.”</p> + +<p>I hurried to him for he struggled in the dark +with Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“To the rescue, Black Bart!” called Jean Lafitte. +“Catch his other arm. I’ve got this one, and if +he moves, by Heaven I’ll run him through.”</p> + +<p>“Run me through, you varmint—what do you +mean?” roared Peterson. “Ain’t it enough you +pull a gun on me and try to poke out my eye, and +twist off my arm, without sticking me with that +bread-slicer you got? Mr. Harry—for Heaven’s +sake——”</p> + +<p>“There now, Jean Lafitte,” I said, “enough. He +has begged for quarter.”</p> + +<p>“No, I ha’int,” asserted Peterson venomously. +“I’ll spank the life outen him if I ever get +the chance—” I raised a hand.</p> + +<p>“Enough of all this noise,” I said. “I am in +charge now, Peterson. Go to the wheel. Break +out the anchor and get under way. At once, man! +I have no time to argue.”</p> + +<p>Peterson had never in his life heard me speak +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +in this way before, but now, for what reason I do +not know—perhaps from force of habit, perhaps +because he knew I was owner of the boat, perhaps +in awe of the naked kris of Jean Lafitte, still +presented menacingly at his abdomen—the old +skipper obeyed.</p> + +<p>I heard the faint jangle of bells in the engine-room +below. Obviously, Williams, the engineer, +was responsive to his sense of duty and routine. +The power came pulsing through the veins of the +<i>Belle Helène</i> and I heard her screws revolve. I, +myself, threw in the donkey winch as she forged +ahead, and so broke out the anchor. It still swung, +clogging her bows as she turned in the current. +The bells again jangled as she got more speed and +as the anchor came home. Our search-light swept +a wide arc along the foot of Natchez Hill, as our +bows circled about and headed down the great +river. And now we picked in full view, hardly +sixty fathoms distant, the dingey, pulled furiously +toward us. My friend, the varlet Cal Davidson, +half stood in the stern of the stubby craft and +waved at us an excited hand.</p> + +<p>“Ahoy there, Peterson!” he cried. “Stop! Hold +on there! Wait! Where are you going there!”</p> + +<p>Peterson turned toward me an inquiring gaze, +but I only pointed a hand down-stream, and he +obeyed me! I reached my hand to the cord and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +gave Peterson, Davidson, Natchez and all the +world, the salute of a long and vibrant whistle of +defiance. It came back to us in echoes from the +giant bluffs, swept across the lowlands on the +opposite side.</p> + +<p>“Full speed ahead, Peterson,” said I quietly.</p> + +<p>“Where are we going, Mr. Harry?” he demanded +anxiously.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said I. “It all depends—maybe +around the world. I don’t know and I don’t care.”</p> + +<p>“I’m scared about this—it don’t look right. +What’s come into you, Mr. Harry?” asked the +old man solicitously.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, Peterson,” said I, “except that the +bird of time is on the wing. I am a pirate, Peterson——”</p> + +<p>“I never knew you so far gone in drink before, +Mr. Harry,” said he, as he threw over the wheel +to pick up the first starboard channel light.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have been drinking, Peterson,” said I. +“I have been drinking the wine of life. It oozes +drop by drop, and is all, too soon, gone if we delay. +Full speed ahead, Peterson. I am in command.”</p> + +<p>“Jean!” I called to my able lieutenant. “Reach +over into the long boat and bring Partial on board. +He is my friend. And bring also our flag. Run +it aloft above our prize.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +“Aye, aye, Sir,” came the reply of Jean Lafitte. +And a few moments later our long boat was riding +astern more easily. Jean Lafitte on his return +busied himself with our burgee. And at that +moment, Partial, overjoyed at also having a hand +in these affairs, barked joyously at his discovery +of the neglected end of the cook’s cue projecting +through the hinges of the door. On this he laid +hold cheerfully, worrying it until poor John +shrieked anew in terror; and until I freed him; +and ordered tea.</p> + +<p>I next went over to the hatches of the engine-room, +and having opened them, bent over to speak +to Williams, the engineer.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, Williams,” said I. “I am going +to take her over now and run her perhaps to the +Gulf. We hadn’t time to tell you at first. There +has been a legal difficulty. Peterson is on deck, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Mr. Harry,” said Williams, who +recognized me as he leaned out from his levers to +look up through the open hatch. “At first I didn’t +know what in hell was up. It sounded like a +mutiny——”</p> + +<p>“It was a mutiny, Williams,” said I, “and I am +the head mutineer. But you’re sure of your pay, +so let her go.”</p> + +<p>He did let her go, smoothly and brilliantly, so +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +that before long she was at her top speed, around +fifteen knots an hour. I was familiar with every +detail of the <i>Belle Helène</i>, and now I looked in +both the generating plant and the storage batteries, +so that four thousand candle-power of electric +light blazed over her from bow to fantail. The +steady purr of the <i>Belle Helène’s</i> double sixties—engines +I had had made under my own care—came +to me with a soothing rhythm where I stood near by +the wheel. Her search-light made a vast illumination +far ahead. Brilliant enough must have seemed +the passing spectacle of our stanch little ship to +any observer, as we now swept on down the tawny +flood of the great river. Who would deny me +the feeling of exultation which came to me? Was +I not captor and captain of my own ship?</p> + +<p>I turned to meet L’Olonnois, my blue-eyed pirate. +He stood at my side as one glorified. The full +swing of romance had him, the full illusion of this,—imagination’s +most ardent desire—now gripped +him fully. He was no boy, but a human being possessed +of all his dreams. His second self, once +oppressed, now free, stood before me wholly satisfied. +I needed not to ask whether he had been +faithful to his trust.</p> + +<p>“I locked the door on ’em, Black Bart,” said he, +“and bade them cease a idle remonstrancing. ‘Little +do you know,’ say I to them, ‘that Black Bart the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +Avenger is now on the trail. Let any oppose him +at their peril,’ says I to them. She give me candy, +the fair captive did, but I spurned her bribe. ‘Beware,’ +says I to her. ‘Little do you know what lies +before you.’”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS CONVERSATION WITH THE CAPTIVE +MAIDEN</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">J</span>EAN LAFITTE, who had so well executed the +work assigned him in the boarding party’s plans, +proved himself neither inefficient nor unobservant. +He approached me now, with a salute, which probably +he copied from Peterson.</p> + +<p>“How now, good leftenant?” said I.</p> + +<p>“If you please, Black Bart,” he began, “how are +we headed, and what are our plans?”</p> + +<p>“Our course on this river, Jean Lafitte, will box +the compass, indeed box an entire box of compasses, +for no river is more winding. Yet in time +we shall reach its end, no doubt, since others have.”</p> + +<p>“And what about our good ship, the <i>Sea Rover</i>, +that we have left behind?”</p> + +<p>“By Jove! Jean Lafitte,” I exclaimed, “that is, +indeed, a true word. What, indeed? We left her +riding at anchor just off the channel edge, and so +far as I recall, she had not her lights up, in accordance +with the law.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we put about and take her in tow, Black +Bart?”</p> + +<p>“By no means. That is the very last of my intentions.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +“What’ll become of her, then?”</p> + +<p>“That is no concern of mine.”</p> + +<p>“But nobody’ll know whose she is, and nobody +can tell what may happen to her——”</p> + +<p>“Quite true. She may be stolen, or sunk. Why +not?”</p> + +<p>“But she cost a lot of money.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, she cost only twelve hundred +dollars.”</p> + +<p>“Twelve hundred dollars!” Jean drew a long +deep breath. “I didn’t know anybody had that +much money in the world. Besides, look what you +spent for them pearls. Ain’t you poor, then, Black +Bart?”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, I have that much more money +left, very likely. And I do not, to say truth, +care a jot, a rap or a stiver, what becomes of +the derelict <i>Sea Rover</i> now. Have we not taken +a better ship for our own?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but suppose yon varlet boards the <i>Sea +Rover</i>, an’ chases us the way we done him?”</p> + +<p>“Again, by Jove! Jean Lafitte; an idea. But +suppose he does? Much good it will do him. For, +look you, good leftenant, the <i>Belle Helène</i> will not +stop to send any man ashore for baseball scores. +Such was not the practise of the old buccaneers, +nor shall it be ours; whereas, no matter what the +haste, yon varlet could in nowise refrain from +that same folly which hath lost him his ship to us. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +Each hour will only widen the gap between us. +Let him take our tub if he likes, and do as he likes, +for ’twill be a long day before he picks up our +masts over his horizon, Jean Lafitte.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!” rejoined my lieutenant, and +withdrew. I could see he was not overjoyed at the +abandonment of our earlier ship that had brought +us so far in safety. All this luxury of the <i>Belle +Helène</i> had the effect of oppressing a pirate who +so short a time ago had started out on the high +seas in a sixteen foot yawl, and who had seen that +yawl, in a manner of speaking, grown into a +schooner, the schooner comparatively grown into +a full-fledged four-decker, richly fitted as any ship +of the royal navy.</p> + +<p>But these, all, were lesser things to me, for on +my soul was a more insistent concern. I turned +now, seeing that Peterson, wholly reconciled to +the new order of affairs, was speeding the boat +onward as though I never had left her; so that I +knew she was safe in his hands, although I set +Lafitte to watch him. Followed by my faithful +friend Partial, who expressed every evidence of +having enjoyed a most interesting evening, I presently +made my way aft.</p> + +<p>As I approached the door of the after-cabin +suite, occupied by the ladies, I made my presence +known at first discreetly, then more pointedly, and, +at length, by a knocking on the door.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +“Below, there!” I called, boldly as I could; +for eager as I was to see Helena Emory, there +were certain things about the interview which might +be difficult. Lovers who have parted, finally, approach +each other, even by accident, thereafter, +with a certain reluctance. (Lovers, did I say? +Nay, never had she said she loved me. She had +only said she wished she did, wished she could.)</p> + +<p>No answer came at first. Then, “Who is it?” +in the voice of Aunt Lucinda.</p> + +<p>“It is I, Mr. Henry—” but I paused: “—It is +I, Black Bart the Avenger,” I concluded. “May +I come in?”</p> + +<p>Silently the door opened, and I entered the little +reception-room which lay between the two staterooms +of this cabin. Before me stood Helena! +And now I was close to her, I could see the little +curls at her temples, could see the double curves +of her lips, the color in her cheek. Ah! she was +the same, the same! I loved her—I loved her not +the same, but more and more, more!</p> + +<p>She held her peace; and all I could do was to +stand and stare and then hold out my hand. She +took it formally, though her color heightened. I +saluted Aunt Lucinda also, who glared at me. +“How do you do?” I said to them both, with +much originality and daring.</p> + +<p>“Black Bart!” snorted Aunt Lucinda. “Black +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +Bart! It might be, from these goings on. What +does it all mean?”</p> + +<p>“It means, my dear Mrs. Daniver,” said I, “that +I have taken charge of the boat myself.”</p> + +<p>“But how?” demanded Helena. “We did not +hear you were coming. And I don’t understand. +Why, that rascally little nephew of mine, in the +mask, frightened auntie nearly to death. And +he said the most extraordinary <em>things</em>!</p> + +<p>“Where is Mr. Davidson?” she added. “He +didn’t tell us a word of this.”</p> + +<p>“He didn’t know a word of it himself,” I +answered. “Let me tell you, no self-respecting +pirate—and as you see, I am a pirate—is in the +habit of telling his plans in advance.”</p> + +<p>“A pirate!”</p> + +<p>I bowed politely. “At your service. Black Bart—my +visiting cards are mislaid, but I intend ordering +some new ones. The ship’s cook, John, +will soon be here with tea. These events may have +been wearying. Meantime, allow me to present +my friend Partial.”</p> + +<p>Partial certainly understood human speech. He +now approached Helena slowly and stood looking +up into her face in adoration. Then, without +any command, he lay down deliberately and rolled +over; sat up, barked; and so, having done all his +repertory for her whom he now—as had his master +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +before him—loved at first sight, he stood again and +worshiped.</p> + +<p>“Nice doggie!” said Helena courteously.</p> + +<p>“Have a care, Helena!” said I. “Love my dog, +love me! And all the world loves Partial.”</p> + +<p>The color heightened in her cheeks. I had never +spoken so boldly to her before, but had rather dealt +in argument than in assertion; which I, later, was +to learn is no way to make love to any woman.</p> + +<p>“When do we get back to Natchez?” she demanded.</p> + +<p>“We do not get back to Natchez.”</p> + +<p>“Oh? Then I suppose Mr. Davidson picks us +up at Baton Rouge?”</p> + +<p>“Yon varlet,” said I, “does not pick us up at +Baton Rouge.”</p> + +<p>“New Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“Or at New Orleans—unless he is luckier than +I ever knew even Cal to be.”</p> + +<p>“Whatever do you mean?” inquired Aunt Lucinda +in tones ominously deep.</p> + +<p>“That the <i>Belle Helène</i> is much faster than the +tug we left behind at Natchez, even did he find it. +He will have hard work to catch us.”</p> + +<p>“To <em>catch us</em>?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Helena, to catch us. Of course he’ll follow +in some way. I have, all the way from above +Dubuque. Why should not he?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +The ladies looked from me to each other, doubting +my sanity, perhaps.</p> + +<p>“I don’t just understand all this,” began Helena. +“But since we travel only as we like, and only with +guests whom we invite or who are invited by the +boat’s owner, I shall ask you to put us ashore.”</p> + +<p>“On a sand-bar, Helena? Among the alligators?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I mean at the nearest town.”</p> + +<p>“There is none where we are going, my dear +Miss Emory. Little do you know what lies before +you! Black Bart heads for the open sea. Let yon +varlet follow at his peril. Believe me, ’twill cost +him a very considerable amount of gasoline.”</p> + +<p>“What right have you on this boat?” she demanded +fiercely.</p> + +<p>“The right of any pirate.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you intrude—how dare you—at least, +I don’t understand——”</p> + +<p>“I have taken this ship, Helena,” said I, “because +it carries treasure—more than you know of, more +than I dreamed. My father was a pirate, I am +well assured by the public prints. So am I. ’Tis +in the blood. But do not anger me. Rather, have +a cup of tea.” John, my cook, was now at the +door with the tray.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” rejoined Helena icily. “It would +hardly be courteous to Mr. Davidson—to use his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +servants and his table in this way in his absence. +Besides——”</p> + +<p>“Besides, I recalled that your Aunt Lucinda’s +neuralgia is always benefited by a glass or so +of ninety-three at about ten thirty of the evening. +John!”</p> + +<p>“Lessah!”</p> + +<p>“Go to the left-hand locker in B; and bring me +a bottle of the ninety-three. I think you will find +that better than this absurd German champagne +which I see yon varlet has been offering you, my +dear Mrs. Daniver. But—excuse me——”</p> + +<p>Helena looked up, innocently.</p> + +<p>“—A moment before there were six empty +bottles on the table there. And I saw you writing. +How many have you thrown overboard through +the port-hole?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know you were so observant,” replied +Helena demurely. “But only three.”</p> + +<p>“It is not enough,” said I. “Go on, and write +your other messages for succor. Use each bottle, +and we shall have more emptied for you, if you +like. You shall have oil bottles, vinegar bottles, +water bottles, wine bottles, all you like. Yon +varlet might run across one, floating, it is true. +I hope he will. Methinks ’twould bid him speed. +But all in vain would be your appeal, for swift +must be the craft that can come up with Black +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +Bart now. And desperate, indeed, must be the +man would dispute his right to tread these decks.”</p> + +<p>“I hope you are enjoying yourself,” said Helena +scornfully. “Don’t be silly.”</p> + +<p>“Will you have tea, Helena?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Poor, dear Mr. Davidson!” sniffed Aunt Lucinda, +taking a glance out the port into the black +night. “I wonder where he is, and what he will +say.”</p> + +<p>“I can tell you what he will say, my dear Mrs. +Daniver,” said I; “but I would rather not.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll tell you what <em>I</em> say,” snorted Aunt +Lucinda. “I think this joke has gone far enough.”</p> + +<p>“It is no joke, madam. I was never so desperately +in earnest in all my life.”</p> + +<p>“Then put us ashore at Baton Rouge.”</p> + +<p>“I can not. I shall not.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean? Do you know what this +looks like, the way you are acting, running off with +Mr. Davidson’s yacht, and this——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, madam?”</p> + +<p>“Why, it’s robbery, and it’s, it’s, why it’s abduction, +too. You ought to know the law.”</p> + +<p>“I do know the law. It is piracy. Have we +not told you that resistance would be worse than +useless? Haven’t I told you I’ve captured this +ship? Little do you know the fate that lies before +you, madam, at the hands of my ruthless +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +men if I should prove unable to restrain them! +And have a care not to offend Black Bart the +Avenger, himself! If you do, Aunt Lucinda, he +may cut off your evening champagne.”</p> + +<p>I heard a sudden suppressed sound, wondrous +like a giggle; but when I turned, Helena was sitting +there as sober as Portia, albeit I thought her +eyes suspiciously bright.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said she, at length, “we can’t sit here +all night and talk about it, and I’ve used up all my +note-paper and bottles. I’ll tell you what I suggest, +since you have seen fit to intrude on two +women in this way. We will hold a parley.”</p> + +<p>“When?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“At what hour?”</p> + +<p>“After breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“Why not at breakfast?”</p> + +<p>“Because we shall eat alone, here,—auntie and +I—in our cabin.”</p> + +<p>“Very well then, if it seems you are so bitter +against the new commander of the ship that you +will not sit at the captain’s table—as we did the +second time we went to Europe together, we three—don’t +you remember, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“Never—at your table, sir!” said Helena Emory, +her voice like a stab. And when I bethought me +what that had meant before now, what it would +mean all my life, if this woman might never sit +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +at board of mine, never eat the fruit of my bow +and spear, never share with me the bread of life, +for one instant I felt the cold thrust of fate’s +steel once more in my bowels. But the next +instant a new manner of feeling took its place, an +emotion I never had felt toward her before—anger, +rage!</p> + +<p>“It is well,” said I, pulling together the best I +could. “And now, by my halidom! or by George! +or by anything! you shall be taken at your word. +You breakfast here. Be glad if it is more than +bread and water—until you learn a better way of +speech with me.”</p> + +<p>Again I saw that same sudden change on her +face, surprise, almost fright; and I swear she +shrank from me as though in terror, her hand +plucking at Aunt Lucinda’s sleeve; whereas, all +Aunt Lucinda could do was to pluck at her +niece’s sleeve in turn.</p> + +<p>“As to the parley, then,” said I, pulling, by mistake, +my mask from my pocket instead of my kerchief, +“we shall hold it, to-morrow, at what time +and in what place I please. It ill beseems a gentleman +to pain one so fair, as we may again remark; +but by heaven! Helena, no resistance!”</p> + +<p>“Wait! What do you really mean?” She raised +a hand. “I’ve told you I just can’t understand +all this. I always thought you were a—a—gentleman.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +“A much misused word,” was my answer. “You +never understood me at all. I am not a gentleman. +I’m a poor, miserable, unhappy, drifting, aimless +and useless failure—at least, I was, until I resolved +upon this way to recoup my fortunes, and went in +for pirating. What chance has a man who has +lost his fortune in the game to-day—what chance +with a woman? You ask me, who am I? I am +a pirate. You ask what I intend to do? What +pirate can answer that? It all depends.”</p> + +<p>“On what?”</p> + +<p>“On you!” I answered furiously. “What right +had you to ruin me, to throw me over——”</p> + +<p>She turned a frightened glance to Aunt Lucinda, +whom I had entirely forgotten. It was my turn +to blush. To hide my confusion I drew on my +mask as I bowed.</p> + +<p>I met John coming down with the ninety-three. +As he returned on deck a moment later, I pushed +shut the doors and sprung the outside latches; so +that those within now were prisoners, indeed. +And then I stood looking up at the stars, slowly +beginning to see why God made the world.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS FURTHER PARLEY WITH THE CAPTIVE +MAIDEN</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">C</span>AL Davidson’s taste in neckwear was a trifle +vivid as compared with my own, yet I rather +liked his shirts, and I found a morning waistcoat of +his which I could classify as possible; beside which +I obtained from John the cook a suit of flannels I +had given him four years ago, and which he was +saving against the day of his funeral and shipment +back to China. So that, on the whole, I did +rather well, and I was not ill content with life as +I sat, with the <i>Pirate’s Own Book</i> in my lap, and +Partial’s head on my knee, looking out over the +passing panorama of the river. The banks now +were low, the swamps, at times, showing their +fan-topped cypresses close to where we passed; +and all the live oaks carried their funereal Spanish +moss, gray and ghostlike.</p> + +<p>We sometimes passed river craft, going up or +down, nondescript, dingy and slow, for the most +part. Sometimes we were hailed gaily by monkey-like +deck-hands, sometimes saluted by the pilot of +a larger boat. At times we swept by busy plantation +landings where the levees screened the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +white-pillared mansion houses so that we could only see +the upper galleries. And now at these landings, +we began to see the freight, made up as much of +barrels as of bales. We were passing from cotton +to cane. But though it still was early in the fall, +the weather was not oppressive, and the breeze +on the deck was cool. I had very much enjoyed +my breakfast, and so had my shipmates L’Olonnois +and Lafitte, to whom each moment now was +a taste of paradise revealed. I envied them, for +theirs, now, was that rare, fleeting and most delectable +of all human states, the full realization of +every cherished earthly dream. It made me quite +happy that they were thus happy; and as to the +right or wrong of it, I put that all aside for later +explanation to them.</p> + +<p>I looked up to see Peterson, who touched his +cap.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Peterson?”</p> + +<p>“We’re on our last drum of gasoline, Mr. +Harry,” said he. “Where’ll we put in—Baton +Rouge?”</p> + +<p>“No, we can’t do that, Peterson,” I answered. +“Can’t we make it to New Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“Hardly. But they carry gas at most of these +landings now—so many power boats and autos +nowadays, you see.”</p> + +<p>“Very well. We’ll pass Bayou Sara and Baton +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +Rouge, and then you can run in at any landing +you like, say twenty miles or so below. Can you +make it that far?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, but you see, at Baton Rouge——”</p> + +<p>“You may lay to long enough to mail these letters,” +said I, frowning; “but the custom of getting +the baseball scores is now suspended. And send +John here.”</p> + +<p>The old man touched his cap again, a trifle +puzzled. I wondered if he recognized Davidson’s +waistcoat—he asked no more questions.</p> + +<p>“John,” said I to my Chinaman, “carry this to +the ladies;” and handed him a card on which I +had inscribed: “Black Bart’s compliments; and +he desires the attendance of the ladies on deck +for a parley. At once.”</p> + +<p>John came back in a few moments and stood +on one foot. “She say, she say, Misal Hally, she +say no come.”</p> + +<p>“Letter have got, John?”</p> + +<p>“Lessah have got.”</p> + +<p>“Take it back. Say, at once.”</p> + +<p>“Lessah. At wullunce.”</p> + +<p>“Lessah,” he added two moments later. “Catchee +lettah, them lady, and she say, she say, go to +hellee!”</p> + +<p>“What! What’s that, John? She said nothing +of the sort!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +“Lessah, said them. No catchee word, that +what she mean. Lady, one time she say, she say, +go topside when have got plenty leady for come.”</p> + +<p>“Go back to your work, John,” said I. And +I waited with much dignity, for perhaps ten minutes +or so, before I heard any signs of life from +the after suite. Then I heard the door pushed +back, and saw a head come out, a head with dark +tendrils of hair at the white neck’s nape, and two +curls at the temple, and as clean and thoroughbred +a sweep of jaw and chin as the bows of the +<i>Belle Helène</i> herself. She did not look at me, +but studiously gazed across the river, pretended to +yawn, idly looked back to see if she were followed; +as she knew she was not to be.</p> + +<p>At length, she turned as she stepped out on the +deck. She was fresh as the dew itself, and like +a rose. All color of rose was the soft skirt she +wore, and the little bolero above, blue, with gold +buttons, covered a soft rose-colored waist, light +and subtle as a spider’s web, stretched from one +grass stalk to another of a dewy morning. She +was round and slender, and her neck was tall and +round, and in the close fashion of dress which +women of late have devised, to remind man once +more of the ancient Garden, she seemed to me +Eve herself, sweet, virginal, as yet in a garden +dew-sweet in the morning of the world.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +She turned, I say, and by mere chance and in +great surprise, discovered me, now cap in hand, +and bowing.</p> + +<p>“Oh,” she remarked; very much surprised.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, Eve,” said I. “Have you used +Somebody’s Soap; or what is it that you have +used? It is excellent.”</p> + +<p>A faint color came to her cheek, the corners of +her bowed lips twitched. “For a pirate, or a person +of no culture, you do pretty well. As though +a girl could sleep after all this hullabaloo.”</p> + +<p>“You have slept very well,” said I. “You never +looked better in all your life, Helena. And that +is saying the whole litany.”</p> + +<p>“You are absurd,” said she. “You must not +begin it all again. We settled it once.”</p> + +<p>“We settled it twenty times, or to be exact, +thirteen times, Helena. The only trouble is, it +would not stay settled. Tell me, is there any one +else yet, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“It is not any question for you to ask, or for +me to answer.” She was cold at once. “I’ve not +tried to hear of you or your plans, and I suppose +the same is true of you. It is long since I have had +a heartache over you—a headache is all you can +give me now, or ever could. That is why I can not +in the least understand why you are here now. +Auntie is almost crazy, she is so frightened. She +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> +thinks you are entirely crazy, and believes you +have murdered Mr. Davidson.”</p> + +<p>“I have not yet done so, although it is true I +am wearing his shoes; or at least his waistcoat. +How do you like it?”</p> + +<p>“I like the one with pink stripes better,” she +replied demurely.</p> + +<p>“So then—so then!” I began; but choked in +anger at her familiarity with Cal Davidson’s waistcoats. +And my anger grew when I saw her smile.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, are you engaged to him, Helena?” +I demanded. “But I can see; you are.” She +drew herself up as she stood, her hands behind +her back.</p> + +<p>“A fine question to ask, isn’t it? Especially in +view of what we both know.”</p> + +<p>“But you haven’t told me.”</p> + +<p>“And am not going to.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“Because it is the right of a middle-aged woman +like myself——”</p> + +<p>“—Twenty-four,” said I.</p> + +<p>“—To do as she likes in such matters. And +she doesn’t need make any confidences with a +man she hasn’t seen for years. And for whom +she never—she <em>never</em>——”</p> + +<p>“Helena,” said I, and I felt pale, whether or +not I looked it, “be careful. That hurts.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +“Oh, is it so?” she blazed. “I am glad if it +does hurt.”</p> + +<p>I bowed to her. “I am glad if it gives you +pleasure to see me hurt. I am. <i>Habeo!</i>”</p> + +<p>“But it was not so as to me,” I added presently. +“Yes, I said good-by to you, that last time, +and I meant it. I had tried for years, I believe, +with every argument in my power, to explain to +you that I loved you, to explain that in every +human likelihood we would make a good match +of it, that we—we—well, that we’d hit it off fine +together, very likely. And then, I was well enough +off—at first, at least——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t!” she protested. “It is like opening +a grave. We buried it all, Harry. It’s over. +Can’t you spare a girl, a middle-aged girl of +twenty-four, this resurrection? We ended it. Why, +Harry, we have to make out some sort of life for +ourselves, don’t we? We can’t just sit down and—and——”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I. “I tried it. I got me a little +place, far up in the wilderness with what remained +of my shattered fortunes—a few acres. And I +sat down there and tried that ‘and—and’ business. +It didn’t seem to work. But we don’t get on much +in our parley, do we?”</p> + +<p>“No. The most charitable thing I can think +of is that you are crazy. Aunt Lucinda must be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +right. But what do you intend to do with us? We +can’t get off the boat, and we can’t get any answer +to our signals for help.”</p> + +<p>“So you have signaled?”</p> + +<p>“Of course. Waved things, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Delightful! The passing steamers no doubt +thought you a dissipated lot of northern joy-riders, +bound south on some rich man’s yacht.”</p> + +<p>“Instead of two troubled women on a stolen +boat.”</p> + +<p>“Are you engaged to Cal Davidson, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“What earthly difference?”</p> + +<p>“True, none at all. As you say, I have stolen +his boat, stolen his wine, stolen his fried potatoes, +stolen his waistcoats. But, bear witness, I drew +the line at his neckties. Nowhere else, however!” +And as I added this I looked at her narrowly.</p> + +<p>“Will you put us ashore?” she asked, her color +rising.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“We’re coming to a town.”</p> + +<p>“Baton Rouge. The capital of Louisiana. A +quaint and delightful city of some sixty thousand +inhabitants. The surrounding country is largely +devoted to the sugar industry. But we do not +stop. Tell me, are you engaged?”</p> + +<p>But, suddenly, I saw her face, and on it was +something of outraged dignity. I bent toward her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +eagerly. “Forgive me! I never wanted to give +you pain, Helena. Forget my improper question.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been fair with you. And that’s hard for +a man. Always, always,—let me tell you something +women don’t understand—there’s the fight +in a man’s soul to be both a gentleman and a +brute, because a woman won’t love him till he’s +a brute, and he hates himself when he isn’t a +gentleman. It’s hard, sometimes, to be both. But +I tried. I’ve been a gentleman—was once, at +least. I told you the truth. When they investigated +my father, and found that, acting under the +standard of his day, he hadn’t run plumb with the +standards of to-day, I came and told you of it. +I released you then, although you never had promised +me, because I knew you mightn’t want an +alliance with—well, with a front page family, you +know. It blew over, yes; but I was fair with you. +You knew I had lost my money, and then +you——”</p> + +<p>“I remained ‘released’.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is true.”</p> + +<p>“And am free, have been, to do as I liked.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, true.”</p> + +<p>“And what earthly right has a man to try both +rôles with a woman—that of discarded and accepted? +You chose the first; and I never gave +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +you the last. It is horrible, this sort of talk. It +is abominable. For three years we have not met +or spoken. I’ve not had a heartache since I told +you. Don’t give me a headache now. And it +would make my head ache, to follow these crazy +notions. Put us ashore!”</p> + +<p>“Not till I know the truth,” said I.</p> + +<p>“About what?”</p> + +<p>“Well, for instance, about the waistcoat with +pink stripes.”</p> + +<p>“You are silly.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. How do you like my suit?”</p> + +<p>“I never saw Mr. Davidson wear that one,” said +she.</p> + +<p>“For good reasons. It is my own, and four +years old. You see, a poor man has to economize. +And you know, since I lost my fortune, I’ve been +living almost from hand to mouth. Honestly, +Helena, many is the time when I’ve gone out +fishing, trying to catch me a fish for my supper!”</p> + +<p>“So does a poor girl have to economize,” said +she.</p> + +<p>“You are most sparing of the truth this morning, +Helena, my dear,” I said.</p> + +<p>“How dare you!” she blazed now at the tender +phrase. “Fine, isn’t it, when I can’t get away? +If I could, I’d go where I’d never see or hear of +you again. I thought I had.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +“But you have not. You shall hear and see me +daily till I know from your own lips the truth +about you and—and every and any other man on +earth who—well, who wears waistcoats with pink +stripes.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll have a long ride then,” said she calmly, +and rose.</p> + +<p>I rose also and bowed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS HUE AND CRY</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>E ran by the river-front of Baton Rouge, +and lay to on the opposite side while our +dingey ran in with mail. I sent Peterson and Lafitte +ashore for the purpose, and meantime paced +the deck in several frames of mind. I was arrested +in this at length by L’Olonnois, who was standing +forward, glasses in hand.</p> + +<p>“Here they come,” said he, “and a humpin’ it +up, too. Look, Jean Lafitte is standin’ up, wavin’ +at us. Something’s up, sure. Mayhap, we are +pursued by the enemy. Methinks ’tis hue and cry, +good Sir.”</p> + +<p>“It jolly well does look like it, mate,” said I, +taking his glasses. “Something’s up.”</p> + +<p>I could see the stubby dingey forced half out +the water by Peterson’s oars, though she made +little speed enough. And I saw men hurrying on +the wharf, as though about to put out a boat.</p> + +<p>“What’s wrong, Peterson?” I shouted as he +came in range at last.</p> + +<p>“Hurry up!” It was Lafitte who answered. +“Clear the decks for action. Yon varlet has wired +on ahead to have us stopped! They’re after us!” +So came his call through cupped hands.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +I ran to the falls and lowered away the blocks +to hoist them aboard, even as I ordered speed and +began to break out the anchor. We hardly were +under way before a small power boat, bearing a +bluecoated man, puffed alongside.</p> + +<p>“What boat is this?” he called. “<i>Belle Helène</i>, +of Mackinaw?”</p> + +<p>In answer—without order from me,—my bloodthirsty +mate, L’Olonnois, brought out the black +burgee of the Jolly Rover, bearing a skull and +cross-bones. “Have a look at that!” he piped. +“Shall we clear the stern-chaser, Black Bart?”</p> + +<p>“Hold on there, wait! I’ve got papers for you,” +called the officer, still hanging at our rail, for I +had not yet ordered full speed.</p> + +<p>“He hollered to me he was going to arrest us, +Mr. Harry,” explained Peterson, much out of +breath. “What’s it all about? What papers does +he mean?”</p> + +<p>“The morning papers, very likely, Peterson,” +said I. “The baseball scores.”</p> + +<p>“Will you halt, now?” called the officer.</p> + +<p>“No,” I answered, through the megaphone. +“You have no authority to halt us. What’s your +paper, and who is it for?”</p> + +<p>“Wire from Calvin Davidson, Natchez, charging +John Doe with running off with his boat.”</p> + +<p>“This is not his boat,” I answered, “but my +own, and I am not John Doe. We are on our +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +way to the coast, and not under any jurisdiction +of yours.”</p> + +<p>He stood up and drew a paper from his pocket, +and began to read. In reply I pulled the whistle +cord and drowned his voice; while at the same +time I gave the engineer orders for full speed. +Shaking his fist, he fell astern.</p> + +<p>None the less, I was a bit thoughtful. After +all, the Mississippi River, wide as it was, ran within +certain well defined banks from which was no +escaping. We were three hundred miles or more +from the high seas, and passing between points +of continuous telegraphic communication; so that +a hue and cry down the river might indeed mean +trouble for us. Moreover, even as I turned to +pick up the course—for I had myself taken the +wheel—I saw the figure of Aunt Lucinda on the +after deck. She was on the point of heaving overboard +a bottle—I heard it splash, saw it bob astern. +“Now, the devil will be to pay,” thought I. But, +on second thought, I slowed down, so that distinctly +I saw the officer, also slowing down, stoop +over and take the bottle aboard his launch.</p> + +<p>“Ahoy, the launch!” I hailed. He put a hand +at his ear as I megaphoned him. “Take this message +for Mr. Calvin Davidson,” I hailed. He +nodded that he heard. “—That to-night John Doe +will wear his waistcoat, the one with the pink +stripes. Do you get me?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +Apparently he did not get me, for he sat down +suddenly and mopped his face. We left him so. +And for aught I could know, he took back ashore +material for a newspaper story, which bade fair +to be better for the newspapers than for us on +board the <i>Belle Helène</i>; for, up and down the +river, the wires might carry the news that a crazy +man had been guilty of piracy, highway robbery, +abduction, I know not how many other crimes; +and to arrest him on his mad career they might +enlist all the authorities, municipal, county, state +and even national. “John Doe,” said I to myself, +“if I really were you, methinks I should make +haste.” None the less I smiled; for, if I were +John Doe only, then Calvin Davidson had no idea +who had stolen his chartered yacht, and who was +about to disport in his most cherished waistcoat! +The situation pleased me very much. “L’Olonnois,” +said I, “come hither, my hearty.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir,” replied that worthy. “What is +it, Black Bart?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing, except I was just going to say that +I enjoy it very much, this being a pirate.”</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said he. “An’ let any pursue us at +their peril!”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS DISCUSSION OF TWO AUNTIES</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">L</span>’OLONNOIS was still all for training the stern-chaser +Long Tom (the <i>Belle Helène’s</i> brass +yacht cannon) on the enemy, and came to me presently +breathing defiance. “’F I only had any chain +shot in the locker,” said he, “beshrew me, but I +would pay him well for this! He’s got my Auntie +Helen’s auntie scared silly.”</p> + +<p>“And how about your Auntie Helena herself?” +I asked of him. Thus far, he had been guilty of +no nepotism whatever, and had treated his auntie +as any other captive maiden, perchance fallen into +his ruthless hands.</p> + +<p>“Well, she ain’t so scared as she is mad, near’s +I can see,” was his reply. “She sat there when I +first drove ’em down-stairs, lookin’ at me, an’ she +says, ‘Jimmy,’ says she, ‘what’s all this foolishness?’ +An’ she reaches out her hand, an’ she +offers me candy—she makes awful nice fudges, +too. She knew that wasn’t fair! But I says to +her. ‘Woman, cease all blandishments, for now +you are in our power!’ An’ I liked that, fer I +been in her power long enough. Then she set +down, an’ near’s I can tell, she got to thinking +things over. I know her—she’ll try to get away.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +“She has tried to do so, my good leftenant, is +trying now. She and her Auntie Lucinda have +thrown over I know not how many bottles carrying +messages. It were only by mere chance yon varlet +could escape coming over some of them. Add this +to the fact that yon varlet has got the king’s navy +after us, and marry! methinks we have full work +cut out for us. Not that stout heart should falter, +good leftenant, eh?”</p> + +<p>“We follow Black Bart the Avenger,” said +L’Olonnois, folding his arms and frowning heavily. +“But say,” he added, “what seems funny to +me is, you and my Auntie Helen must of known +each other before now.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all, not at all—that is, but casually, and +long years since. It had long since escaped my +mind.” I felt myself flushing sadly.</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell her that—I knew she was mistaken. I +was sure she was.”</p> + +<p>“No! No! Jimmy, you’ll tell her nothing of the +kind. I only meant——”</p> + +<p>“Well, she remembers you, I’m almost sure, an’ +so does Aunt Lucinda. Aunt Lucinda, why I’ve +heard her back home tell Auntie Helena about as +good fish in the sea, an’ she mustn’t bother over +a man that’s poor. Was it you, Black Bart? And +are you poor?”</p> + +<p>“As I stand before you now, Jimmy L’Olonnois, +I’m the poorest beggar in the world,” said I. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +“I have risked my all on one hazard. If I win, +I shall be rich beyond compare. If I fail, I shall +be poor indeed.”</p> + +<p>“She knows that. She knows you’re poor, all +right. I heard Aunt Lucinda tell her often. She +said you was rich once, an’ lost it all, speculatin’ +in a mine or something; an’ what was the use +marryin’ a man who hadn’t anything? I don’t +know, but I think that was why Aunt Lucinda +worked up this trip with Mr. Davidson. He’s got +money to burn—look at this yacht, an’ everything—an’ +I know him and Auntie Lucinda, anyhow, +have got it doped out that him an’ Auntie Helen’s +goin’ to get married—even if they ain’t now, so +far’s I know. Anyhow, our takin’ the ship has +broke up something. But say, now, Black +Bart——”</p> + +<p>“Well, my good leftenant——”</p> + +<p>“<em>I</em> got a idea!”</p> + +<p>“Indeed?”</p> + +<p>“Yep. Looka here, now—why don’t <em>you</em> just +do like the pirate book says?”</p> + +<p>“How is that?”</p> + +<p>“Marry the captive maid your own self?”</p> + +<p>I felt my color rise yet more.</p> + +<p>“Why, now, that happened right along in them +days—pirate chief, he takes a beautiful maiden +captive, an’ after makin’ all his prisoners walk +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +the plank but just her, he offers his hand an’ fortune. +An’ lots of times, somehow, the beautiful +maiden she married the ruthless pirate chief, an’ +they lived happy ever after. Why don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I hadn’t thought of that, Jimmy,” I said, most +mendaciously; “but the idea has some merit. In +fact, we’ve already started in by taking the beautiful +maiden captive, and, mayhap, yon varlet yet +shall walk the plank, or swear a solemn oath never +to wear such waistcoats as these again. But one +thing lacks.”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“The maiden’s consent!”</p> + +<p>“No, it don’t! They never ast ’em—they just +married ’em, that was all. An’ every time, they +lived happy ever after. An’ they founded families +that——”</p> + +<p>“Jimmy!” I raised a hand. “That will do.”</p> + +<p>“Well, anyhow, I wouldn’t pay any attention +to Aunt Lucinda about it. She’s strong for yon +varlet, for he’s got the dough.”</p> + +<p>“And isn’t your Auntie Helena also—but no, +on second thought, I will not ask you that——”</p> + +<p>“Why no, sure not—it’s better to demand it of +her own fair lips, an’ not take no for a answer. +They always live happy ever after.”</p> + +<p>—“Of course, Jimmy.”</p> + +<p>—“And so would you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +“I know it! I know it!”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, why just don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“Good leftenant, Black Bart will take your counsel +into full advisement. Later, we shall see. +Meantime, we must have a care for our good ship’s +safety, for none may tell what plans yon varlet +may be laying to circumvent us.”</p> + +<p>So saying, I sought out Peterson and asked him +for his maps and charts.</p> + +<p>There was, as I found by consulting these, a +deep bayou, an old river bed, that ran inland some +thirty miles, apparently tapping a rich plantation +country which was not served by the regular river +boats.</p> + +<p>“Do you know anything about this old channel, +Peterson?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>“Nothing at all except from hearsay and what +you see here,” he replied. “I don’t know whether +or not it has a bar at either end, but likely enough +it has at both, though we might crowd through.”</p> + +<p>“And how about the gasoline supply?”</p> + +<p>“Enough to get us in, at least. And, I say, +here’s a sort of plantation post-office marked. +There’s just a bare chance we could get a drum +or so in there. I don’t think we can, though.”</p> + +<p>“What’s she drawing now as she runs, Peterson?”</p> + +<p>“Four feet two inches. She’s a shade low by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +the stern. We’ve quite a lot of supplies aboard, +this early in the cruise. But I don’t suppose we’ve +got enough.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Peterson,” said I, “water leaves no trail. +If there’s no one watching when we open up this +next bend, run for the bayou, and we’ll see if we +can get under cover. Of course, it’s all a mistake +about Mr. Davidson’s wiring on to have us stopped—though +we can’t blame him, since he hasn’t any +idea who it is that has run away with the boat. +But now, it suits me better to double in here, and +let the chase try to find us on the main river; if +there is any chase. You see, I don’t want to disturb +the ladies unduly, and they might not understand +it all if we were overhauled and asked +to explain our change in the ownership.”</p> + +<p>“Quite right, sir, and very good. I catch the +idea. But, sir——”</p> + +<p>He hesitated.</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, if I might be so bold, what are your +plans about the two ladies?”</p> + +<p>“I have none which will effect your navigation +of the boat, Peterson.”</p> + +<p>The old man flushed a shade. “Excuse me, Mr. +Harry. I know you’ll do nothing out of the way. +But the old hen—I beg pardon——”</p> + +<p>“You mean the revered aunt, Peterson.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +“Yes, sir, the revered aunt. Well, sir, the revered +aunt, dash her!—--”</p> + +<p>“Yes, dash her starry toplights, Peterson; and +even if need be, shiver her timbers! Go on——”</p> + +<p>“Why, she’s been tryin’ to pull off a weddin’ on +this boat ever since we left Mackinaw.”</p> + +<p>“Why not? You mean that Mr. Davidson and +the revered aunt were getting on well?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, bless your heart, no! It was the young +lady, Miss Emory. And she——”</p> + +<p>I raised my hand. “Never mind, Peterson. We +can’t discuss that at all. But now, I’m minded +to give my friend Mr. Davidson a little game of +follow-my-leader. And just to show how we’ll do +that, we’ll begin with a preliminary go at hide-and-seek. +Take the chance, Peterson, and run +into the bayou. I’ll put off the small boat for +soundings. If we can get gas, and can get in, and +can get out unnoticed, maybe we can run by New +Orleans in the night, and none the wiser.”</p> + +<p>“And where then, Mr. Harry?”</p> + +<p>“Peterson, the high seas have no bridges, and +if they had, I should not cross them yet. Perhaps +if I did, I then should burn them behind me.”</p> + +<p>“She’s a mortal fine young woman, Mr. Harry, +a mortal fine one. I’ll be sworn he makes a hard +run for her. But so can we—eh, Mr. Harry? +He’ll like enough pocket us in here, though.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +I made no answer to this. The old man left me +to take the wheel, and I noted his head wag from +side to side.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I ESTABLISH A MODUS VIVENDI</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>S good fortune would have it, we swung in, +opposite the screened mouth of Henry’s +Bayou, at a time when the stream was free of +all craft that might have observed us, although +far across the forest we could see a black column +of smoke, marking a river steamer coming up.</p> + +<p>“Quick with that long boat, Lafitte,” I ordered; +and he drew our old craft alongside as we slowed +down. “Get over yonder and sound for a bar. +Take the boat hook. If you get four feet, we’ll +try it.”</p> + +<p>My hardy young ruffian was nothing if not +prompt, nor was he less efficient than the average +deck-hand. It was he who did the sounding while +Willie, our factotum, pulled slowly in toward +the mouth of the old river bed. I watched them +through the glasses, noting that rarely could Lafitte +find any bottom at all with the long shaft of +the boat hook. “She’s all right, Peterson,” said +I. “Follow on in, slowly—I don’t want that +steamer yonder to catch us.”</p> + +<p>“<em>Why</em> don’t you?” A voice I should know, to +which all my body would thrill, did I hear it in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +any corner of the world, spoke at my elbow. I +started for a half instant before I made reply, +looking into her dark eyes, sensible again of the +perfume most delirium-producing for a man: the +scent of a woman’s hair.</p> + +<p>“Because, Helena,” said I, “I wish our boat to +lie unnoticed for a time, till the hue and cry has +lulled a bit.”</p> + +<p>“And then?” She bent on me her gaze, so difficult +to resist, and smiled at me with the corners +of her lips, so subtly irresistible. I felt a rush of +fire sweep through all my being, and something +she must have noted, for she gave back a bit and +stood more aloof along the rail.</p> + +<p>“And then,” said I savagely, “this boat runs by +all the towns, till we reach the Gulf, and the +open sea.”</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>“And then, Helena, we sail the ocean blue, you +and I.”</p> + +<p>“For how long?”</p> + +<p>“Forever, Helena. Or, at least, until——”</p> + +<p>“Until when?”</p> + +<p>“Until you say you will marry me, Helena.”</p> + +<p>She made no answer now at all beyond a scornful +shrug of her shoulders. “Suppose I can not?” +she said at last.</p> + +<p>“If you can not, all the same you must and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +shall!” said I. “You shall be prisoner until you +do.”</p> + +<p>“Is there no law for such as you?”</p> + +<p>“No. None on the high sea. None in my heart. +Only one law I know any more, Helena—I who +have upheld the law, obeyed it, reverenced it.”</p> + +<p>“And that?”</p> + +<p>“The law of the centuries, of the forest, of the +sea. The law of love, Helena.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, you go about it handsomely! If you wished +me to despise you, to hate you, this would be +very fit, what you say.”</p> + +<p>“You may hate me, despise me, Helena. Let +it be so. But you shall not ignore me, as you have +these three years.”</p> + +<p>“It was your fault; your wish—as well as my +wish. We agreed to that. Why bring it up again? +When the news came that you had quit your profession, +and just at the time you had lost all your +father’s fortune and your own, had turned your +back and run away, when you should have stayed +and fought—well, do you think a girl cares for +that sort of man? No. A man must do something +in this world. He mustn’t quit. He’s got +to <em>fight</em>.”</p> + +<p>“Not even if he has nothing to work for?”</p> + +<p>“No, not even then. There are plenty of girls +in the world——”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +“One.”</p> + +<p>—“And a man mustn’t throw away his life +for any one woman. That isn’t right. He has his +work to do, his place to make and hold. That’s +what a woman wants in a man. But you didn’t. +Now, you come and say we must forget all the +years of off-and-on, all the time we—we—wasted, +don’t you know? And because I am, for a little +while, in your hands, you talk to me in a way of +which you ought to be ashamed. You threaten me, +a woman. You even almost compromise me. This +will make talk. You speak to me as though, indeed, +you were a buccaneer, and I, indeed, in your +power absolutely. If I did not know you——”</p> + +<p>“You do not. Forget the man you knew. I +am not he.”</p> + +<p>She spread out her hands mockingly, and yet +more I felt my anger rise.</p> + +<p>“I am another man. I am my father, and his +great grandfather, and all his ancestors, pirates all. +I know what I covet, and by the Lord! nothing +shall stop me, least of all the law. I shall take +my own where I find it.”</p> + +<p>“And now listen!” I concluded. “I am master +on this ship, no matter how I got it. Late poor, +as you say, I shall be richer soon, for I shall take, +law or no law, consent or no consent, what I want, +what I will have. And that is you!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +“Each day, at eleven, Helena,” I concluded, +“I shall meet you on the after deck, and shall try +to be kind, try to be courteous——”</p> + +<p>“Why, Harry——”</p> + +<p>“Try to be calm, too. I want to give you time +to think. And I, too, must think. For a time, +I wondered what was right, in case you had +really pledged yourself to another man.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose I had?” she asked, sphinx-like.</p> + +<p>“I will try to discover that. Not that it would +make any difference in my plans.”</p> + +<p>“You would take what was another’s?” She +still gazed at me, sphinx-like.</p> + +<p>“Yes! By the Lord, Helena, my father did, and +his, and so would I! So would I, if that were +you! Let him fend for himself.”</p> + +<p>She turned from the rail, her color a little +heightened, affected to yawn, stretched her arms.</p> + +<p>We were now passing over the bar, slowly, feeling +our way, our skiff alongside, and the shelter +of the curving, tree-covered bayou banks now +beginning to hide us from view, though the bellowing +steamer below had not yet entered our bend.</p> + +<p>“Who is that boy?” she inquired lazily.</p> + +<p>“That, madam, is no less than the celebrated +freebooter, Jean Lafitte, who so long made this +lower coast his rendezvous.”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense! And you’re filling his head with +wild ideas.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +“Say not so; ’twas he and your blessed blue-eyed +pirate nephew, the cutthroat L’Olonnois, who +filled my head with wild ideas.”</p> + +<p>“How, then?”</p> + +<p>“They took me prisoner, on my own—I mean, +at the little place where I stop, up in the country. +And not till by stern deeds I had won their confidence, +did they accept me as comrade, and, at +last, as leader—as I may modestly claim to be. +And do not think that you can wheedle either of +them away from Black Bart. L’Olonnois remembers +you spanked him once, and has sworn a bitter +vengeance.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you happen to start sailing down this +way?”</p> + +<p>“Because I learned Cal Davidson had started—with +you.”</p> + +<p>“And all that way you had it in mind to overtake +us?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; and have done so; and have taken his +ship away from him, and for all I know his bride.”</p> + +<p>“He was your friend.”</p> + +<p>“I thought so. I suppose he never knew that +you and I used to—well, to know each other, before +I lost my money.”</p> + +<p>“He never spoke of that.”</p> + +<p>“No difference, unless all for the better, for I +shall, now, never give you up to any man on +earth.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +“And I thought you the best product of our +civilization, a man of education, of breeding.”</p> + +<p>“No, not breeding, unless savagery gives it. +I’m civilized no longer. When you stand near +me, and your hair—go below, Helena! Go at +once!”</p> + +<p>She turned, moved slowly toward her door.</p> + +<p>I finished calmly as I could. “To-morrow, at +eleven, I shall give you an audience here on the +deck. We shall have time. This is a wilderness. +You can not get away, and I hope no one will find +you. That is my risk. And oh! Helena,” I +added, suddenly, feeling my heart soften at the +pallor of her face—“Oh, Helena, Helena, try to +think gently of me as you can, for all these miles +I have followed after you; and all these years I +have thought of you. You do not know—you do +not know! It has been one long agony. Now go, +please. I promise to keep myself as courteous as +I can. You and I and Aunt Lucinda will just +have a pleasant voyage together until—until that +time. Try to be kind to me, Helena, as I shall +try to be with you.”</p> + +<p>Silent, unsmiling, she disappeared beyond her +cabin door, nor would she eat dinner even in her +cabin, although Aunt Lucinda did; and found the +ninety-three was helping her neuralgia.</p> + +<p>I know not if they slept, but I slept not at all. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +The shadows hung black about us as we lay at +anchor four miles inland, silent, and with no +lights burning to betray us. Now and again, I +could hear faint voices of the night, betimes croakings, +splashings in the black water about us. It +was as though the jungle had enclosed us, deep and +secret-keeping. And in my heart the fierce fever +of the jungle’s teachings burned, so that I might +not sleep.</p> + +<p>But in the morning Helena was fresh, all in +white, and with no more than a faint blue of +shadow beneath her eyes. She honored us at +breakfast, and made no manner of reference to +what had gone on the evening before. This, then, +I saw, was to be our <i>modus vivendi</i>; convention, +the social customs we all had known, the art, the +gloss, the veneer of life, as life runs on in society +as we have organized it! Ah, she fought cunningly!</p> + +<p>“Black Bart,” said L’Olonnois, after breakfast +as we all stood on deck—Helena, Auntie Lucinda +and all—“what’s all them things floatin’ around in +the water?”</p> + +<p>“They look like bottles, leftenant,” said I; “perhaps +they may have floated in here. How do you +suppose they came here, Mrs. Daniver?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“How should I know?” sniffed that lady.</p> + +<p>“Well, good leftenant, go overside, you and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +Jean, and gather up all those bottles, and carry +them with my compliments to the ladies at their +cabin. You can have the satisfaction of throwing +them all overboard later on, Mrs. Daniver. Only, +remember, that there is no current in the bayou, +and they will stay where they fall for weeks, unless +for the wind.”</p> + +<p>“And where shall we be, then?” demanded +Auntie Lucinda, who had eaten a hearty breakfast, +and I must say was looking uncommon fit for one +so afflicted with neuralgia.</p> + +<p>“Oh, very likely here, in the same place, my dear +Mrs. Daniver,” said I, “unless war should break +out meantime. At present we all seem to have a +very good <i>modus vivendi</i>, and as I have no pressing +engagements, I can conceive of nothing more +charming than passing the winter here in your +society.” Saying which I bowed, and turning to +Helena, “At eleven, then, if you please?”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I HAVE POLITE CONVERSATION, BUT +LITTLE ELSE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span> HAD myself quite forgotten my appointed hour +of eleven, feeling so sure that it would not be +remembered, as of covenant, by the party of the +second part, so to speak, and was sitting on the +forward deck looking out over the interesting pictures +of the landscape that lay about us. It was +the morning of a Sabbath, and a Sabbath calm +lay all about us—silence, and hush, and arrested +action. The sun itself, warm at a time when soon +the breezes must have been chill at my northern +home, was veiled in a soft and tender mist, which +brought into yet lower tones the pale greens and +grays of the southern forest which came close +to the bayou’s edge. The forest about us not yet +fallen before the devastating northern lumbermen—men +such as my father had been, who cared +nothing for a tree or a country save as it might +come to cash—was in part cypress, in part cottonwood, +but on the ridge were many oaks, and over +all hung the soft gray Spanish moss. The bayou +itself, once the river, but now released from all +the river’s troubling duties, held its unceasing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +calm, fitted the complete retirement of the spot, and +scarce a ripple broke it anywhere. Over it, on +ahead, now and then passed a long-legged white +crane, bound for some distant and inaccessible +swamp; all things fitting perfectly into this quiet +Sabbath picture.</p> + +<p>My cigar was excellent, I had my copy of +Epictetus at hand, and all seemed well with the +world save one thing. Here, at hand, was everything +man could ask, all comforts, many luxuries; +and I knew, though Helena did not, that the safe +increase of my fortune—that fortune which some +had called tainted, and which I myself valued +little, soon as I had helped increase it by the exercise +of my profession—was quite enough to +maintain equal comfort or luxury for us all our +lives. But she was obstinate, and so was I. She +would not say whether she loved Cal Davidson, +and I would never undeceive her as to my supposed +poverty. Why, the very fact that she had +dismissed me when she thought my fortune gone—that, +alone, should have proved her unworthy +of a man’s second thought. Therefore, ergo, hence, +and consequently, I could not have been a man; +for I swear I was giving her a second thought, +and a thousandth; until I rebelled at a weakness +that could not put a mere woman out of mind.</p> + +<p>And then, I slowly turned my head, and saw her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +standing on the after deck. Her footfall was not +audible on the rubber deck-mats, and she had not +spoken. I resolved, as soon as I had leisure, to +ask some scientific friends to explain how it was +possible that with no sound or other appeal to +any of the sensorial nerves, I could, at a distance +of seventy-five feet, become conscious of the presence +of a person no more than five feet five, who +had not spoken a word, and was standing idly +looking out over the ship’s rail, in quite the opposite +direction from that in which I sat. And +then the ship’s clock struck six bells, and recalled +the appointment at eleven. Hastily I dropped +Epictetus and my cigar, and hurried aft.</p> + +<p>“Good morning again, Helena,” said I.</p> + +<p>She stood looking on out over the water for +a time, but, at length, turned toward me, just a +finger up as to stifle a yawn. “Really,” said she, +“while I am hardly so situated that I can well +escape it or resent it, it does seem to me that you +might well be just a trifle less familiar. Why not +‘Miss Emory’?”</p> + +<p>“Because, Helena, I like ‘Helena’ better.”</p> + +<p>A slow anger came into her eyes. She beat +a swift foot on the deck.</p> + +<p>“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t stamp with your feet. +It reminds me of a Belgian hare, and I do not +like them, potted or caged.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +“I might as well be one,” she broke out, “as +well be one, caged here as we are, and insulted by +a—a——”</p> + +<p>“A ruthless buccaneer——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, a ruthless buccaneer, who has remembered +only brutalities.”</p> + +<p>“And forgotten all amenities? Why, Helena, +how could you! And after all the cork-tipped cigarettes +I have given you, and all the ninety-three I +have given your Auntie Lucinda—why look at the +empty message bottles she and you have thrown +out into the helpless and unhelping bayou—a perfect +fleet of them, bobbing around. Shan’t I send +the boys overboard to gather them in for you +again?”</p> + +<p>“A fine education you are giving those boys, +aren’t you, filling their heads with lawless ideas! +A fine debt we’ll all owe you for ruining the character +of my nephew Jimmy. He was such a nice +nephew, too.”</p> + +<p>“Your admiration is mutual, Miss Emory—I +mean, Helena. He says you are a very nice +auntie, and your divinity fudges are not surpassed +and seldom equaled. It is an accomplishment, +however, of no special use to a poor pirate’s bride; +as I intend you shall be.”</p> + +<p>She had turned her back on me now.</p> + +<p>“Besides, as to that,” I went on, “I am only +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +affording these young gentlemen the same advantages +offered by the advertisements of the United +States navy recruiting service—good wages, good +fare, and an opportunity to see the world. Come +now, we’ll all see the world together. Shall we +not, Miss Emory—I mean, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“We can’t live here forever, anyhow,” said she.</p> + +<p>“I could,” was my swift answer. “Forever, +in just this quiet scene. Forever, with all the +world forgot, and just you standing there as you +are, the most beautiful girl I ever saw; and once, +I thought, the kindest.”</p> + +<p>“That I am not.”</p> + +<p>“No. I was much mistaken in you, much disappointed. +It grieved me to see you fall below +the standard I had set for you. I thought your +ideals high and fine. They were not, as I learned +to my sorrow. You were just like all the rest. +You cared only for my money, because it could +give you ease, luxury, station. When that was +gone, you cared nothing for me.”</p> + +<p>I stood looking at her lovely shoulders for some +time, but she made no sign.</p> + +<p>“And therefore, finding you so fallen,” I resumed, +“finding you only, after all, like the other +worthless, parasitic women of the day, Miss Emory—Helena, +I mean—I resolved to do what I could +to educate you. And so I offer you the same footing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +that I do your nephew—good wages, good +fare, and an opportunity to see the world.”</p> + +<p>No answer whatever.</p> + +<p>“Do you remember the Bay of Naples, at sunset, +as we saw it when we first steamed in on +the old <i>City of Berlin</i>, Helena?”</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>“And do you recall Fuji-yama, with the white +top—remember the rickshaw rides together, +Helena?”</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>“And then, the fiords of Norway, and the +mountains? Or the chalk cliffs off Dover? And +those sweet green fields of England—as we rode +up to London town? And the taxis there, just +you and I, Helena, with Aunt Lucinda happily +evaded—just you and I? Yes, I am thinking of +forcing Aunt Lucinda to walk the plank ere long, +Helena. I want a world all my own, Helena, the +world that was meant for us, Helena, made for +us—a world with no living thing in it but yonder +mocking-bird that’s singing; and you, and me.”</p> + +<p>“Could you not dispense with the mocking-bird—and +me?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“No,” (I winced at her thrust, however). “No, +not with you. And you know in your heart, in +the bottom of your trifling and fickle and worthless +heart, Helena Emory, that if it came to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +test, and if life and all the world and all happiness +were to be either all yours or all mine, I’d +go anywhere, do anything, and leave it all to you +rather than keep any for myself.”</p> + +<p>“Go, then!”</p> + +<p>“If I might, I should. But male and female +made He them. I spoke of us as units human, +but not as the unit <i>homo</i>. Much as I despise you, +Helena, I can not separate you from myself in +my own thought. We seem to me to be like old +Webster’s idea of the Union—‘one and indivisible.’ +And since I can not divide us in any +thought, I, John Doe, alias Black Bart, alias the +man you once called Harry, have resolved that +we shall go undivided, sink or swim, survive or +perish. If the world were indeed my oyster, I +should open it for us both; but saying both, I +should see only you. Isn’t it odd, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“It is eleven-thirty,” said she.</p> + +<p>“Almost time for luncheon. Do you think me +a ‘good provider,’ Helena?”</p> + +<p>“Humph! Mr. Davidson was. While your +stolen stores last in your stolen boat, I suppose +we shall not be hungry.”</p> + +<p>“Or thirsty?” She shrugged.</p> + +<p>“Or barren of cork-tips of the evening? Or +devoid of guitar strings?”</p> + +<p>“I shall need none.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +“Ah, but you will! It belikes me much, fair +maid, to disport me at ease this very eve, here on +the deck, under the moon, and to hear you yourself +and none other, fairest of all my captives, touch the +lute, or whatever you may call it, to that same +air you and I, fair maid, heard long ago together +at a lattice under the Spanish moon. A swain +touched then his lute, or whatever you may call it, +to his Dulcinea. Here ’tis in the reverse. The +fair maid, having no option, shall touch the lute, or +whatever you call it, to John Doe, Black Bart, or +whatever you may call him; who is her captor, +who feels himself about to love her beyond all +reason; and who, if he find no relief, presently, +in music—which is better than drink—will go +mad, go mad, and be what he should not be, a +cruel master; whereas all he asks of fate is that +he shall be only a kind captor and a gentle friend.”</p> + +<p>Her head held very high, she passed me without +a word and threw open the door of her suite.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 318px;"> +<img src="images/tlatp05.jpg" width="318" height="500" +alt="Helena sits playing a guitar" /> +<span class="caption">It was a love song of old Spain</span> +</div> + +<p>... And that night, that very night, that very +wondrous, silent, throbbing night of the Sabbath +and the South, when all the air was as it seemed +to me in saturation, in a suspense of ecstasy, to +be broken, to be precipitated by a word, a motion, +a caress, a note ... that night, I say, as I sat +on the forward deck alone, I heard, far off and +faint as though indeed it were the lute of Andalusia, +the low, slow, deep throb of a guitar!... +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +My whole heart stopped. I was no more than a +focused demand of life. Reason was gone from +me, not intellect but emotion—that is its basic +thing after all, emotion born on earth but reaching +to the stars.... I listened, not hearing.... +It was the air we had heard long ago, a love song +of old Spain, written, perhaps, before DeSoto and +his men perished in these very bayous and forests +that now shielded us against all tumult, all turmoil, +all things unhappy or unpleasant. The full +tide of life and love swept through my veins as +I listened.</p> + +<p>I rose, I hastened. At her door I paused. +“Helena!” I called raucously. “Helena.” And +she made no reply. “Helena,” I called again. “It +was the same old air. This is Spain again! Ah, +I thank you for that same old air. Helena, forgive +me. May I come in—will you come out?”</p> + +<p>I halted. A cold voice came from the companionway +door. “You have a poor ear for music, +John Doe. It is not the same. Do you think I +would take orders from you, or any other man?”</p> + +<p>I stood irresolute a moment, and then did +what I should not have done. I pulled open her +door. “Come out,” I demanded. But then I +closed the door and went away. She was sitting, +her head bowed on the instrument she had played. +And when she looked up, startled at my rudeness, +I saw her eyes wet with tears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE MAKE A RUN FOR IT</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“G</span>ADZOOKS! Black Bart,” remarked L’Olonnois +at the breakfast table the next morning, +“and where is the captive maiden?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know,” was my answer. “Better go +find out, Jimmy.”</p> + +<p>He departed, but presently, returned somewhat +troubled.</p> + +<p>“My Auntie Helen,” said he, “I mean the captive +maid, why, she says she’s got a headache and +don’t want no breakfast.”</p> + +<p>“Not even a grapefruit and a cup of coffee?” +I demanded, anxiously and, it must be admitted, +somewhat guiltily; for I knew that the soul of +Helena was grieved and whatever the trouble, the +fault was my own. Surely I had placed the poor +captive in a most difficult position, and loving her +as I did, how could I continue to give her discomfort? +My resolution almost weakened. I was +considerably disturbed.</p> + +<p>And yet as I faced the alternative of setting +her free, and once more taking up the aimless and +unhappy life I had led these last three years without +sight of her, something—I suppose the great +selfishness which lies under love—rose up and said +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +me nay; and I began to make excuses in favor of +my desire, as that, surely, soon she would come to +a more reasonable way of thought. And in one +thing, at least, I was honest with myself, deceitful +as are lovers with themselves, and arguing ever in +their own favor—I did not know why Helena had +wept, and it was perhaps my right to know.</p> + +<p>One selfishness with another, I resolved to go +on with this matter, though knowing full well how +difficult would be my battle with her, how unequal; +for I was armed only with a great love, backed +by no art at all, whereas, she merely would continue +to unmask against me new batteries of defense—severe +politeness, formality with me; laughter +and scornfulness of me; anger, pitifulness, at +last even tears; and always the dread assault of +her eyes, and the scent of her hair and the sweet +wistfulness of her mouth,—all, all the charms of +all women united in her one self, to attack, to +assail, to harass, and to make wholly wretched the +man who loved her more than anything in life, +and who was driven almost to using any means, so +only that she might not be away, not be out of +sense and sight; as out of mind and out of heart +she never more might be. So that, all in all, it +were, indeed, hard question whether she or I were +the more wretched. Surely grapefruit and toast +and coffee seemed to me but inventions of the +powers of darkness at that breakfast.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +Not so my hardy mates, however, who ate with +the keen appetite of youth, from fruit through +bacon and toast and back again, both talking all +the while. Nor, as the event proved, altogether +unwisely. Indeed, it was stout Jean Lafitte who +resolved my doubts, and by suggesting the simple +medicine of action rather than meditation, sufficed +for the removal of one of my two minds.</p> + +<p>“What ho! Black Bart,” said he, after his third +helping of bacon, “why does our good ship lie here +idle at her anchor?” Question direct, like Jean +himself, and demanding direct answer.</p> + +<p>“Ask Captain Peterson,” said I. “He perhaps +can tell where we can get more gasoline.”</p> + +<p>“No, he can’t. I asked him this morning.”</p> + +<p>“Then ’twould seem we must lie here all winter, +unless discovered by some relief expedition.”</p> + +<p>“Why don’t we start a relief expedition of our +own?” demanded he.</p> + +<p>“And how?”</p> + +<p>“Why, me and Willy, the deck-hand, we’ll take +the long boat an’ go out an’ explore this region +roundabout. Somebody may have gasoline somewhere, +and if so, we can git it, can’t we?”</p> + +<p>“Your idea is excellent, Jean Lafitte,” said I. +“Within the hour you shall set forth to see whether +or not there is any settlement on this bayou. And +that you may not need use violence when secrecy +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +is our wish, here is a fat purse for our stores. +And hasten, for of a truth, Jean Lafitte, I am most +aweary of this very morning, and I long to see +the white seas roll once more.”</p> + +<p>It was determined, therefore, that we should +fare onward—in case we could fare at all—with +our ship’s company as it now was; for, of course, +none but myself knew what was afoot between +Black Bart and his captive. And well enough I +knew that in keeping Helena Emory thus close to +me, I was breeding sleepless nights and anxious +days.</p> + +<p>This day itself was anxious enough, nor could +all of Epictetus teach me calm philosophy, distracted +as I was over this situation, complex as it +was. As to the fortune of the long boat, we knew +nothing until, at three of the afternoon, I saw a +white speck of a sail round the bend of our bayou, +and saw that was hoisted, spirit fashion, over our +boat, which now, with following wind, rapidly +drew in toward us.</p> + +<p>“It’s all right,” called out Jean Lafitte, when he +came within hail; and I saw now that he, indeed, +had a boat’s load of gasoline in tanks, cans and +all manner of receptacles.</p> + +<p>“Town and a store, down there five miles,” he +explained as I caught his gunwale with boat hook. +“You can git anything there. Now, the Giants +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +an’ the Cubs, why, they tied in the ’leventh inning +yesterday. An’ say——”</p> + +<p>“Enough,” said I, “let me hear nothing of the +cursed Giants or the yet more accursed Cubs, for +I have more serious work afoot! Tell me, is there +a bar cutting off the other end of the bayou; and +how long is the bayou?”</p> + +<p>“Sixteen miles,” answered the useful Lafitte, +“an’ she seems like good water all the way. They +say there’s seven foot on the bar, and the wood +boats run in and out.”</p> + +<p>“Good! And did you tell them who you were, +and why you wanted gasoline?”</p> + +<p>“No. I only said our automobeel was broke +down, an’ we wanted the baseball scores. That +was all. They ast who was we. I said you was +John Doe—you see, I didn’t want to tell your real +name, so I didn’t say Black Bart.”</p> + +<p>“And you didn’t mention our boat?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not! Whose business is it what +pirates does? They strike hardest when least expected. +To-night we can run in an’ rob the store, +easy.”</p> + +<p>“Jean!” I cried, horrified, “what do you mean? +Let me hear no more such talk, or by my halidom! +back you go to your home by first train. I’ll not +be responsible for the ruin of any boy’s morals in +this way.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +“Well what do you think about that, Jimmy!” +said Jean, somewhat cast down and much mystified. +“Ain’t we pirates, an’ don’t pirates live on booty?”</p> + +<p>“Booty enough you have in your boat, Jean,” +said I, “and let us get it aboard and in our tanks, +for to-night we sail.”</p> + +<p>“For to rob the store?” anxiously.</p> + +<p>“No, once more for the Spanish Main, my +hearties! I seek a greater treasure; and plenty of +danger, believe me, lies between here and there.”</p> + +<p>“When’ll we start?” queried L’Olonnois eagerly.</p> + +<p>“To-night, at six bells. Make all ready,” was +my reply.</p> + +<p>And that very night, with our search-light half +covered, and at slow speed and with the sounding +lead going, Peterson felt his way out from our +moorings and along the full length of Henry’s +Bayou, silently as he might. We saw few signs +of life beyond now and then a distant light in some +negro cabin, and with all the lights doused we +swept by like a ghost in the night, along the front +of the plantation at whose store my men had got +their gasoline. At last we broke open the lower +end of the bayou, which, coming in from the main +stream in a long open reach, showed like a lane +of faint light in the forest; and to my great relief +presently, felt the current of the great stream +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +pick us up, and saw the channel lights ahead, so +that we knew we might for a time, at least, advance +in safety.</p> + +<p>In all this work, my two faithful lieutenants +were awake and alert; but I saw nothing of +Helena that day, nor had message either from her +or her aunt in the full round of twenty-four hours +since last we met. Had she sought deliberately +to repay me for the grief I caused her, Helena +could have devised no better plan than her silence +and her absence from my sight, after what time +I had seen her weep.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a thought of more practical sort came +to my mind. “Jimmy,” I called.</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir;” and L’Olonnois saluted.</p> + +<p>“You remember all those bottles floating around +in the bayou—did you take them all up?”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir, an’ she throwed a lot more in, +out o’ the cabin window. I was shootin’ at ’em +with the twenty-two, an’ busted some.”</p> + +<p>“But not all?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, some was left.”</p> + +<p>“And we sailed away, leaving there, no doubt, +the full story of our voyage.”</p> + +<p>“Like enough,” said L’Olonnois. “I didn’t think +of that.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I. For once, the vigilance of Black Bart +faltered, L’Olonnois, and he must yet, mayhap, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +make better amends for his fault. Full speed +ahead, now, Peterson,” I added later as I went +forward. “Run for New Orleans and with all you +can get out of her.”</p> + +<p>“Very good, Mr. Harry,” said the old man; and +I could feel the throb of her whole superstructure, +from stack to keelson, when he called on the +double-sixties of the <i>Belle Helène</i> for all their +power. Nor did any seek to stay us in our swift +rush down the river.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I WALK AND TALK WITH HELENA</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was nine of as fine a winter morning as the +South ever saw when at last, having passed +without pause all intervening ports, we found ourselves +at the city of New Orleans. Rather, in +the vicinity of that city; for when we reached the +railway ferry above the town, I ran alongshore +and we made fast the <i>Belle Helène</i> at a somewhat +precarious landing place. I now called Peterson +to me.</p> + +<p>“It’s a fine morning, Peterson,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, but I think ’tis going to rain.” (Peterson +was always gloomy.)</p> + +<p>“You must go down-town, Peterson,” said I. +“The through train from the West is late and just +now is coming into the ferry. You can take it +easily. We have got to have still more gasoline, +for there is a long trip ahead of us, and I am not +sure what may be the chance for supplies below +the city.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going into the Gulf, Mr. Harry?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Peterson. You will continue to navigate +the boat; and, meantime, you may be quartermaster +also. I shall be obliged to remain here until you +return.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +The old man touched his cap. “Very good, sir, +but I’m almost sure not to return.”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Peterson,” I went on, well used to his +customary depression of soul, “go to the ship’s +furnisher, Lavallier and Thibodeau, toward the +Old Market. Tell them to have all our supplies +at slip K, below the railway warehouses, not later +than nine this evening. We want four drums +of gasoline. Also, get two thousand rounds of +ammunition for the twelve gages, ducking loads, +for we may want to do some shooting. We also +want two or three cases of grapefruit and oranges, +and any good fresh vegetables in market. All +these things must be ready on the levee at nine, +without fail. Here is my letter of credit, and a +bank draft, signed against it—I think you will find +they know me still.”</p> + +<p>The old man touched his cap again but hesitated. +“I’m sure to be asked something,” he said somewhat +nervously.</p> + +<p>“Say nothing about any change of ownership +of this boat, Peterson, and don’t even give the +boat’s name, unless you must. Just say we will +meet their shipping clerk at slip K, this evening, +at nine. Hurry back, Peterson. And bring a +newspaper, please.”</p> + +<p>“Is any one else going down-town?” asked Peterson. +“I may run into trouble.”</p> + +<p>“No, we shall all remain aboard.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +He departed mournfully enough, seeing that the +ferry boat now was coming across with the railway +train. I continued my own moody pacing +up and down the deck. Truth was, I had not +seen Helena for more than twenty-four hours, nor +had any word come from the ladies’ cabin to give +me hope I ever would see her again of her own +will. My surprise, therefore, was great enough +when I heard the after cabin door close gently as +she came out upon the deck.</p> + +<p>When last I saw her she had been in tears. Now +she was all smiles and radiant as the dawn! Her +gown, moreover, was one I had never seen before, +and she, herself, seemed monstrous pleased with it, +for, by some miracle, fresh as though from the +hands of her maid at home, she knew herself fair +and fit enough to make more trouble for mankind.</p> + +<p>“Good morning,” said she, casually, as though +we had parted but lately and that conventionally. +“Isn’t it fine?”</p> + +<p>“It is a beautiful picture,” said I, “and you fit +into it. I am glad to see you looking so well.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could say as much for you,” said +she. “You look like a forlorn hope.”</p> + +<p>“I am nothing better.”</p> + +<p>“And as though you had not slept.”</p> + +<p>“I have not, Helena.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” her eyes wide open in surprise.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +“Because I knew I had either hurt or offended +you; and I would do neither.”</p> + +<p>“You have done both so often that it should not +cost you your sleep,” said she slowly. “But if +you really want to be kind, why can you not have +mercy on a girl who has been packed in a hat box +for a month? Let me go ashore.”</p> + +<p>“Can you not breathe quite as well where you +are, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“But I can’t walk.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you can; and I will walk beside you +here on deck.”</p> + +<p>“But I would like to pick flowers, over there +by the embankment.”</p> + +<p>“The train is too close,” said I, smiling grimly.</p> + +<p>Her color heightened just a little, but she did +not answer my suspicions. “Please let me walk +with you over there,” she said. “I used not to +need ask twice.”</p> + +<p>“Our situation is now reversed, Helena.”</p> + +<p>“Please, let me walk with you, Sir!”</p> + +<p>“I dare not. We might both forget ourselves +and go off to New Orleans for a lark without +Aunt Lucinda.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am going to call Aunt Lucinda, too.”</p> + +<p>“Pardon, but you are going to do nothing of +the kind. Even with her as chaperon, did we get +down there in the old city once more, like the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +children we once were, Helena, we would forget +our duty, would, perhaps, forget our purpose here. +Mademoiselle, I dare not take that risk.”</p> + +<p>“Please, Sir, may I walk with you over yonder +for just a little time?” she said, as though it were +her first request. She was tying her quaint little +white bonnet strings under her chin now. I raised +a hand.</p> + +<p>“You ask a man to put himself into the power +of the woman he loves most in all the world. +When a man needs resolution, dare he look into +the eyes of that woman, feel her hand on his arm, +have her walk close to him as they promenade?”</p> + +<p>“Dear me! Is it so bad as that?”</p> + +<p>“Worse, Helena.”</p> + +<p>“Then I am to continue a prisoner in that hat +box?”</p> + +<p>“Until you love me, Helena, as I do you.”</p> + +<p>“As I told you, that would be a long time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes! For never in the world can you love +me as I do you. I had forgotten that.”</p> + +<p>“If only you could forget everything and just +be a nice young man,” said she. “It is such fun. +This dear old town, don’t you know? Now, with +a nice young man to go about with Aunt Lucinda +and me——”</p> + +<p>“How would a man like Calvin Davidson do?” +I demanded bitterly.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +“Very well. He is nice enough.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose so. He is rich, able to have his +horses and cars—even his private yacht. He can +order a dinner in any country in the world, or tell +you the standing of any club, in either league, at +any minute of the day or night. Could I say more +for his education? He has two country places +and a city house and a business which nets him a +hundred thousand a year. How can he help being +nice? I do not resemble Mr. Davidson in any +particular, except that I am wearing one of his +waistcoats. Also, Helena, I am wearing a suit +of flannels which I have borrowed from John, his +Chinese cook. You can readily see I am a poor +man. How, then, can I be nice?”</p> + +<p>“No one would see us here,” said she, sublimely +irrelevant, as usual. “There are some little +yellow flowers over there on the bank. Maybe I +could find some violets.”</p> + +<p>There was a wistfulness in her gaze which made +appeal. I could not resist. “Helena,” said I suddenly, +“give me your parole that you will not try +to escape, and I will walk with you among yonder +flowers. You look as though just from a Watteau +fan, my dear. It is fall, but seems spring, and +the world seems made for flowers and shepherds +and love, my dear. Do you give me your word?”</p> + +<p>“If I do, may I walk alone?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +“No, with me.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll not try to take the train. On my honor, +I will not.”</p> + +<p>I looked deep into her eyes and saw, as always, +only truth there—her deep brown eyes, filled with +some deep liquid light whose color I never could +say—looked till my own senses swam. I could +scarcely speak.</p> + +<p>“I take your parole, Helena,” I said. “You +never lied to me or any other human being in the +world.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know me,” said she. “I used often +to lie to mama, and frequently do yet to Aunt +Lucinda. But not if I say I give my word—my +real word.”</p> + +<p>“When will you give me your real word, Helena? +You know what I mean—when will you say that +you love me and no one else?”</p> + +<p>“Never!” said she promptly. “I hate you very +much. You have been presumptuous and overbearing.”</p> + +<p>“Why then should you promenade with me?”</p> + +<p>“Fault of anything better, Sir!” But she took +my hand lightly, smiling as I assisted her down +the landing way.</p> + +<p>“But tell me,” she added as we made our way +slowly up the muddy slope, “really, Harry, how +long is this thing to last? When are we going +back home?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +“How can you ask? And how can I reply, +save in one way, after taking the advice of yonder +pirate captain, your blue-eyed nephew? He +says they always live happy ever after. Listen, +Helena. Gaze upon this waistcoat! Forget its +stripes, and imagine it to be sprigged silk of a +day long gone by. Let us play that romance is +not yet dead. These are not cuffs, but ruffles at +my wrists—for all Cal Davidson’s extraordinary +taste in shirts. All the world lies before us, and +it is yesterday once more. The Mediterranean, +Helena, how blue it is—the Bermudas, how fine +they are of a winter day! And yonder lies motley +Egypt and her sands. Or Paris, Helena; or Vienna, +the voluptuous, with her gay ways of life. +Or Nagasaki, Helena—little brown folks running +about, and all the world white in blossoms. All the +world, Helena, with only you and I in it, and +with not a care until, at least, we have eaten the +last of our tinned goods of the ship’s supplies; +since I am poor. But if I could give you all that, +would I be nice?”</p> + +<p>“Would that suit you, Harry?” she asked soberly; +“just gallivanting?”</p> + +<p>“You know it would not. You know I want +no vacation lasting all my life, nor does any real +man. You know it was yourself that forced me +out of my man’s place and robbed me of my +greatest right.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +“Yes,” said she, “a man’s place is to fight and +to work. It’s the same to-day. But,” she added, +“you ran away; and you lost.”</p> + +<p>“But am I not trying to recoup my fortune, +Helena? You see, I have already acquired a yacht, +although but a few weeks ago I started in the +world with scarcely more than my bare hands. +Could Monte Cristo have done more?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t money a woman wants in a man.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, then?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said she. “Oh, come, we +mustn’t go to arguing these things all over +again! I’m weary of it. And certainly Aunt +Lucinda and I both are weary of our hat box +yonder. That’s what I asked you, how long?”</p> + +<p>“As long as I like, Helena, you and your Aunt +Lucinda shall dwell there. What would you say +to three years or so?”</p> + +<p>She seemed not to hear. “I believe I’ve found +a four leaf clover,” said she.</p> + +<p>“Much good fortune may it bring you.”</p> + +<p>“Let me try my fortune,” said she, and began +plucking off the leaves. “He loves me, he loves +me not; he loves me, he loves me not.”</p> + +<p>“There!” she said, holding up the naked stem +triumphantly; “I knew it.”</p> + +<p>“It would be a fairer test, had you a daisy, +Helena,” said I, “or something with more leaves; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +not that I know whose has been this ordeal. Suppose +it were myself, and that you tried this one.” +I handed her a trefoil, but she waved it aside.</p> + +<p>“I will try to find you a four leaf clover for +your own, after a while,” said she, and bobbed +me a very pretty courtesy. Angered, I caught at +the stick I was carrying with so sudden a grip +that I broke it in two.</p> + +<p>“I did not know your hands were so strong, +Harry,” said she.</p> + +<p>“Would they were stronger!” was my retort. +“And were I in charge of the affairs of Providence, +the first thing I would do would be to wring +the neck of every woman in the world.”</p> + +<p>“And then set out to put them together again, +Harry? Don’t be silly.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, naturally. But you must admit, +Helena, that women have no sense of reason whatever. +For instance, if you really were trying out +the fortune of some man on a daisy’s head, you +would not accept the decree of fate, any more +than you could tell why you loved him or loved +him not. Why does a woman love a man, Helena? +You say I must not be silly—should I then be +wise?”</p> + +<p>“No, you are much too wise, so that you often +bore me.”</p> + +<p>“Nor should he be poor?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +“No.”</p> + +<p>“Nor rich?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly not. Rich men also usually are bores—they +talk about themselves too much.”</p> + +<p>“Should he be a tall man?”</p> + +<p>“Not too tall, for they’re lanky, nor short, because +they get fat. You see, each girl has her own +ideal about such matters. Then, she always marries +a man as different as possible from her ideal.”</p> + +<p>“Why does she marry a man at all, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“She never knows. Why should she? But +look—” she pointed out across the water—“the +train is leaving the ferry boat. Isn’t that Captain +Peterson going aboard the train?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Helena, I’ve sent him down-town to get +some light reading for you and your Aunt Lucinda—<i>Fox’s +Book of Martyrs</i>, and the <i>Critique of +Pure Reason</i>—the latter especially recommended +to yourself. I would I had in print a copy of my +<i>magnum opus</i>, my treatment on native American +<i>culicidæ</i>. My book on the mosquito is going to +be handsomely illustrated, Helena, believe me.”</p> + +<p>She turned upon me with a curious look. +“Harry,” said she, “you’ve changed in some ways. +If I were not so bored by life in yonder hat box, +I might even be interested in you for a few minutes. +You used always to be so sober, but now, +sometimes, I wonder if I understand you. Honestly, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +you were an awful stick, and no girl likes a +stick about her. What do girls care which dynasty +it was that built the pyramids?—it’s Biskra they +want to see. And we don’t care when or why +Baron Haussmann built the Boulevard Haussmann +in Paris—it’s the boulevard itself interests us.”</p> + +<p>“It is the fate of genius to be cast aside,” said +I. “No doubt even I shall be forgotten—even +after my book on the <i>culicidæ</i> shall have been +completed.”</p> + +<p>“—So that,” she went on, not noticing me, +“there is that one point in your favor.”</p> + +<p>“Then there is a chance?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, for me to study you as you once did +me—as one of the <i>culicidæ</i>, I presume. But if +you would listen to reason, and end this foolishness, +and set us all ashore, why, I would be almost +willing to forgive you, and we might be +friends again,—only friends, Harry, as we once +were. Why not, Harry?”</p> + +<p>“You wheedle well,” said I, “but you forget +that what you ask is impossible. I am Black Bart +the Avenger, and the hand of every man is against +me. I am too deep in this adventure to end it +here. Why? I did not even dare go down-town +for fear I might be arrested. Nothing remains +but further flight, and when you ask me to fly and +leave you here, you ask what is impossible.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +She stood for a time silent, a trifle paler, her +flowers fallen from her hand, clearly unhappy, +but clearly not yet beaten. “Come,” said she +coldly, “we must not be brutal to Aunt Lucinda +also. Let us go back.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I, “now you have back your parole.”</p> + +<p>“I think I should like an artichoke for luncheon,” +said she. “Vinaigrette, you know.” And she +passed aft, her head hidden by her white parasol, +but I knew with chin as high as though she were +Marie Antoinette herself. Nor did I feel much +happier than had I been her executioner.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS A PRETTY KETTLE OF FISH</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">M</span>ISS Helena Emory had her artichoke for luncheon, +and judging from my own, my boy +John never had prepared a better, good as he was +with artichokes; but we ate apart, the ladies not +coming to our table. It was late afternoon before +I saw Helena again, once more come on deck. She +was sitting in a steamer chair with her face leaning +against her hand, and looking out across the +water at the passing shipping. She sat motionless +a long time, the whole droop of her figure, the +poise of her tender curved chin, wistful and unhappy, +although she said no word. For myself, +I did not accost her. I, too, looked up and down +the great river, not knowing at what moment some +discerning eye might spy us out, and I longed for +nothing so much as that night or Peterson would +come.</p> + +<p>He did come at last, late in the afternoon, on +an outbound train, and he hurried aboard as rapidly +as he might. The first thing he did was to hand +me a copy of an afternoon paper. I opened it +eagerly enough, already well assured of what news +it might carry.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +On the front page, under a large, black head, +was a despatch from Baton Rouge relaying other +despatches received at that point, from many points +between Plaquimine and Bayou Sara. These, in +short, told the story of the most high-handed attempt +at river piracy known in recent years. The +private yacht of Calvin Davidson, a wealthy +northern business man, on his way South for the +winter, had been seized by a band of masked +ruffians, who boarded her while the yacht’s owner +was temporarily absent on important business in +the city of Natchez. These ruffians, abandoning +their own boat, had at once gone on down-stream. +They had been hailed by officers of Baton Rouge, +acting under advice by wire from Mr. Davidson, +on his way down from Natchez. The robber band +had paid no attention to the officers of the law, +but had continued their course. In some way +the stolen craft had mysteriously disappeared that +afternoon and night, nor had any word of her +yet been received from points as far south as Plaquimine. +A bottle thrown overboard by one of +the prisoners taken on the yacht contained a message +to Mr. Davidson, with the request that he +should meet the sender at New Orleans; but there +was no signature to the note.</p> + +<p>Many mysterious circumstances surrounded this +sensational piece of piracy, according to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +journalistic view-point. On board the <i>Belle Helène</i> +were two ladies, the beautiful young heiress, Miss +Helena Emory, well known in northern social +circles, and her aunt, Mrs. Lucinda Daniver, widow +of the late Commodore Daniver, United States +Navy. Mr. Davidson himself was unable to assign +any reason for this bold act of this abduction, although +he feared the worst for the comfort or +even the safety of the two ladies, whose fate at +this writing remained unknown. The greatest mystery +surrounded the identity of the leader of this +bold deed, whose name Mr. Davidson could not imagine. +He was reported to suspect that these same +river pirates, earlier in the day, attacked and perhaps +made away with a friend of his whose name +is not yet given. A cigarette case was found in the +abandoned boat, which Mr. Davidson thought +looked somewhat familiar to him, although he +could not say as to its ownership. He could and +did aver positively, however, that a photograph in +a leather case on the abandoned boat was a portrait +of none other than Miss Helena Emory, one +of the captives made away with by the river ruffians. +Mr. Davidson could assign no explanation +of these circumstances.</p> + +<p>Later despatches received at Baton Rouge, so +the New Orleans journal said, might or might not +clear up the mystery of the stolen yacht’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +disappearance, although the senders seemed much +excited. One story from a down-river point, +brought in by an excited negro, told of a dozen +bottles found floating in the bayou. The negro, +however, had broken them all open, and declared +they had contained nothing but bits of paper, which +he had thrown away. He also told a wild story +that the plantation store at Hamlin’s Landing, on +Bayou Henry, had been looted in broad daylight, +by a young man and a boy, apparently members +of the pirate crew. The younger of the two ruffians +was masked, and on being asked for pay for +gasoline, refused it at the point of his weapons, +declaring that pirates never paid.</p> + +<p>While no attention should be paid to rumors +such as the latter, the despatches went on to say, +it was obvious that a most high-handed outrage +had been perpetrated. It was supposed that the +swift yacht had been hurried forward, and had +passed New Orleans in the night. Once out of +the river, and among the shallow bays of the Gulf +Coast, the ruffians might, perhaps, for some time +evade pursuit, just as did the craft of Jean Lafitte, +himself, a century ago. Meantime, only the greatest +anxiety could pervade the hearts of the friends +of these ladies thus placed in the power of ruthless +bandits. Such an outrage upon civilization +could, of course, occur only under the administration +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +of the Republican party. The journal therefore +hoped:—and so forth, and so forth.</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, after digesting this interesting +information, “you’ve read this. What have +you to say?”</p> + +<p>Peterson was more despondent even than was +his wont. “It looks mighty bad, Mr. Harry,” said +he, “and I don’t profess to understand it.”</p> + +<p>“Did you order the supplies?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, but they may forget to send them +after all.”</p> + +<p>“It is your intention to stick by me, Peterson?”</p> + +<p>“Well, there must be some mistake,” he said, +“but I don’t see what else I can do.”</p> + +<p>“There is a mistake, Peterson,” said I. “This +is more newspaper sensation. Mr. Davidson is +excited over something he doesn’t understand. +If I had him here now I could explain it all easily. +But, before the matter can be explained in this +way, we must wait until this excitement dies down. +Why, at this gait, it would hardly be safe for +either of us to be recognized here in town. We +might be arrested and put to a lot of trouble. The +best thing we can do is to run on down the river +and wait until Davidson gets down and until we +get this thing adjusted. That is why I wanted +the supplies to-night.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose we are discovered to-night?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +“We take that chance, but I fancy that I have +certain legal rights, after all, and I own this boat. +Fortune favors the bold. I shall make no attempt +to hide, either now or then, Peterson. At the +same time, while we will not run away from plain +sight, there is no need to take unnecessary chances. +Drop some white sail-cloth over the yacht’s name +on her bows, and on the fantail. Have one or two +of the boys go overboard in slings and seem to be +painting her sides. That will give the look that +we are safe to lie here some time—which is the +last thing the <i>Belle Helène</i> really would do, or +will do. They think we’ve run past the city already, +and they’ll be watching at Quarantine, and +along the Lake Borgne Canal. Most of the yachts +go out that way, headed for Florida. We’ll go the +other way. It’s an adventure, Peterson, and one +which any viking, like yourself, ought to relish.”</p> + +<p>“So I do, Mr. Harry,” said he, “but I hardly +knew which course to lay.”</p> + +<p>“Blood will tell, Peterson,” said I. “Your +ancestors were Danish pirates; mine were English +pirates.”</p> + +<p>“For God’s sake, Mr. Harry, don’t talk that +way. We mustn’t go against the law.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure that we have as yet, Peterson, +for the law says nothing about abduction of +ladies in pairs, or for purposes truly honorable. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +Frankly, Peterson—and because you’ve been long +in my employ—I’ll tell you something. I intend +to marry that young lady if she’s not already married +to Mr. Davidson.”</p> + +<p>“Lord, Mr. Harry, she ain’t—at least not since +she come aboard the boat.”</p> + +<p>“In that case,” said I, drawing a long breath, +“this is not such a bad world after all.”</p> + +<p>“Not at all, Mr. Harry. I was going to say, +as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, but of +course I don’t know about what she’ll say. She +looks to me like one of these girls that’s been petted +a good deal, and Mr. Harry, believe me, I +always fight shy of a pet horse, or a pet boat, or +a pet woman—they’re always hard to handle, and +they raise the devil when they get a chance. I +hope you’ll pardon me, sir.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, Peterson, I am grateful to +you. You are on double pay from the time I took +command. Moreover, I promise you the best +cruise we ever had together. Once among the +shallow bays on the coast down there, we can +take care of ourselves while this chase cools down. +We’re faster than anything on the Gulf, and draw +less water than most of them of anything like +our speed. You take care of the boat and I’ll +take care of the girl—or try to. I have attachment +papers all made out, to file on the boat if +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +need be—and I also have an attachment for the +girl, when it comes to that.”</p> + +<p>The old man shook his head. “I’ve got the +easiest job,” said he.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE HAVE A SENSATION</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>ITH no more than these slight precautions +which I have indicated, we lay all that afternoon +in plain view of the world; and because all the +world could not suspect us of such hardihood, all +the world went by without suspecting that the +stolen <i>Belle Helène</i> and her ruthless pirate crew +were there in full sight and apparently inviting or +defying apprehension. Sometimes a passing craft +would salute us as we lay, and we returned the +courtesy without fail. I know not whether more +bottles were cast overboard by Aunt Lucinda, but +if so, we heard of none. At last, after what +seemed days to me, though no more than hours, +the shade of twilight fell across the river, the outlines +of the passing boats grew less distinct. Now +and again we could hear the wail of railway +whistle, or see the curved snake of the lighted +train dashing across the alluvial lands toward the +ferry. Here and there, beyond, pin points of red +lights shone. At last the night fell full, and, +gladly enough, I gave the order for the continuance +of our journey.</p> + +<p>We slipped down-stream gently and silently, yet +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +speedily withal, seeking to time our arrival, as +nearly as we might, to the hour assigned for the +delivery of our supplies at the dock.</p> + +<p>“I’m none too easy in my mind,” said my old +skipper to me, as we stood together forward.</p> + +<p>“Why not, Peterson?”</p> + +<p>“It’s them two boys,” said he. “You talk of +pirates—there’s the bloodiest pair of pirates as +ever was. I hardly know whether my own life’s +safe or not, to hear them talk.”</p> + +<p>“Never do you mind, Peterson,” said I. “Those +boys may be useful to us yet. The one with blue +eyes has proved himself able to keep the ladies +in their cabin, and as for the one who was going +to run you through when we took the boat, he still +may have to work to keep Williams down in the +engine-room when we make our landing.”</p> + +<p>“It may come out all right,” said the old man +gloomily, “but sometimes I fear for the worst.”</p> + +<p>“You always do, Peterson, and that is no frame +of mind for a healthy pirate. But here we are +below the railway warehouse district, and I think +nearly opposite slip K, where we land. Port your +helm, and run in slow. We’ve got to have gasoline, +although I must say my two bullies took +aboard quite a store up there at the Bayou.”</p> + +<p>“Port it is, sir,” said Peterson gloomily, still +smoking. And he made as neat a landing as ever +in his life.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +A shadowy form arose amidst the blackness of +the dock and came directly forward to take our +line.</p> + +<p>“Who’s that?” I demanded. “Are you from +Lavallier and Thibodeau?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, M’sieu,” came the answer. “Those supply +is here.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Help him get the stuff aboard, +Peterson.”</p> + +<p>They went about their work. Just as turning +I saw standing at my elbow, the slight form of +L’Olonnois, his arms folded and hat drawn upon +his brow.</p> + +<p>“Bid the varlets hasten,” he hissed to me. +“Time passes.”</p> + +<p>“Back to your post, L’Olonnois,” I rejoined. +“See that the captives remain in their room.”</p> + +<p>Jean Lafitte, too, proved unable to restrain his +curiosity, and this time his habit of close observation +was of benefit in an unexpected way.</p> + +<p>“Hist, Black Bart!” he whispered distinctly, +clutching my arm. “What boat is that?”</p> + +<p>He pointed in the dim light to a low lying, battered +power boat moored in the same slip with +us. Something in her look seemed familiar.</p> + +<p>“I can’t see her name,” said Jean Lafitte, “but +she looks a lot like our own old boat.”</p> + +<p>I hastily stepped on the wharf and got a closer +look in the wavering beams of an arc light at the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +name on the boat’s bows. There, in indistinct and +shaky, but unmistakable characters, was the title +painted by my young ruffians, weeks earlier—<i>Sea +Rover!</i></p> + +<p>“Jean Lafitte,” I whispered, “you are right, and +now indeed we must have a care. Yon varlet has +beaten us into New Orleans.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s board her and take her,” hissed Jean +Lafitte. “We can do it easy.”</p> + +<p>“No, wait,” said I. “Perhaps we can think of +a better plan. Wait till we get two drums of +gasoline aboard. Then we’ll make a run for it, +if yon varlet is here on the <i>Sea Rover</i>. Probably +not, for every one seems gone to bed.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll find out,” said Jean Lafitte boldly, and +before I could stop him was gone, springing lightly +on the deck of the <i>Sea Rover</i>.</p> + +<p>“Hello in there,” he hailed. “Are you all +asleep?”</p> + +<p>A voice muttered something from the shallow +cabin, I could not tell what. “We got a barrel +of rum for you from Thibodeau’s,” said Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“No, you ain’t. Must be some mistake,” said +a sleepy voice; and now a tousled head appeared, +indistinct in the gloom. “Anyhow, I don’t know +anything about it, and it’ll have to stay on the +dock until morning. I’m only the engineer, I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +come from Natchez. Mr. Davidson, he’s up-town.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, all right,” said Jean Lafitte, apparently +mollified, and soon was at my side again. So +then, we had the information we sought. I was +sure my own engineer, Williams, was busy as +usual below, oiling and polishing his double sixties.</p> + +<p>“Hurry now,” I whispered to Peterson. “Get +that stuff aboard quick. Don’t forget the crates +of fruit and vegetables.”</p> + +<p>We were nearly done with this work, when for +a moment all seemed on the point of going wrong +with us. I heard shufflings and door slammings +from the after cabin. “Help! Help!” sounded +the voice of Aunt Lucinda, somewhat muffled. It +chanced that my engineer, Williams, at that +moment poked his head up his ladder to get a +breath of fresh air.</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” he demanded of me as I passed. +“I thought I heard some one calling.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you did, Williams,” said I. “It was Mrs. +Daniver. She suffers much with neuralgia and +is in great pain. I shouldn’t wonder if I should +have to go up-town and get a physician for her +even yet. But, Williams, in any case we’ll be sailing +soon, and I want you to overhaul the screen +of the intake pipe for that port boiler. We’re +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +getting into very sandy waters, and of course you +don’t want anything to happen to your engines. +Can you attend to that at once?”</p> + +<p>“Surely, sir,” said he, and went below again. I +closed the hatch on him. Meantime I hurried aft, +to see what could be done toward quelling any +possible uproar. My blue-eyed lieutenant, L’Olonnois, +had been as efficient in his way as Jean Lafitte. +Now, in full character, he was enjoying +himself immensely. When I saw him, he was +standing with his feet spread wide apart in the +center of the cabin floor, with drawn sword in +his hand.</p> + +<p>“Lady,” said he, addressing himself to Aunt +Lucinda, “it irks me as a gentleman to be rude +with one so fair, but let me hear one more word +from you, and your life’s blood shall dye the deck, +and you shall walk the plank at the morning sun. +You deal with L’Olonnois, who knows no fear!”</p> + +<p>Deep silence, broken presently by a little laugh; +and I heard Helena’s voice in remonstrance. +“Don’t be so silly, Jimmie!”</p> + +<p>“Silly, indeed,” boomed the deep voice of Aunt +Lucinda, catching sight of me at the door. “Yonder +is the villain who put him up to this.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, is that you?” said Helena, coming toward +me. “Where are we, Harry?”</p> + +<p>“In the port of New Orleans, Miss Helena,” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +was my answer, “a city of some three hundred +thousand souls, noted for its manufacture of +sugar, and its large shipments abroad of the staple +cotton.”</p> + +<p>“May I come on deck?” she queried after a +while.</p> + +<p>“We are alongside the levee, and there is little +to see. We shall be sailing now in a few moments.”</p> + +<p>“But mayn’t I come up and see New Orleans, +even for a minute as we pass by? I’ll be good.”</p> + +<p>“You may come up under parole,” said I, throwing +open the door. “But you must bring your +aunt’s parole also. You must give no alarm, for +we have every reason here for silence.”</p> + +<p>She turned back and held some converse with +Auntie Lucinda, and by what spell I know not, +won the promise of the latter to remain silent and +make no attempt at escape. A little later she was +at my side in the dim light cast by a flickering +and distant arc light at the street.</p> + +<p>“I have your word, then?” I demanded of her.</p> + +<p>“Yes. You can’t blame me for wanting to get +out, to see what is going on.”</p> + +<p>“A great deal may be going on here any moment,” +said I. “In fact, if I could show you the +evening newspapers—which I purpose doing to-morrow +morning—it might seem to you that a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +great deal already has gone on. For one thing, +Cal Davidson is in town ahead of us. That’s his +boat yonder, rubbing sides with us. He doesn’t +know we’re here. He himself is off up-town, at +the Boston Club, probably, or perhaps some of +the cafés—he knows a thousand people here.”</p> + +<p>“So do I, Harry,” said she. “To think of going +by in this plight! And to think of leaving New +Orleans without even one little supper at Luigi’s, +Harry—it breaks my heart.”</p> + +<p>“We are almost ready to sail, Helena. Suppose +we see Luigi’s some other time. Things are getting +pretty close about us here.”</p> + +<p>“Any pirate should be a man of courage,” said +she; “he should be ever willing to take a chance.”</p> + +<p>“Very well; have I not taken several chances +already?”</p> + +<p>“And again, a pirate ought to be kind toward +all women, oughtn’t he, Harry? I asked you this +afternoon, why couldn’t we be friends again and +stop all this foolishness. Let’s forget everything +and just be friends.”</p> + +<p>“What! Again, Helena? Have I not tried that +and found it a failure?”</p> + +<p>“You have no courage. You are no pirate. I +challenge you to a test.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“Let us go up-town and have a little supper +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +at Luigi’s, the way we used to, Harry, when we +really were friends.”</p> + +<p>“What, with Cal Davidson loose in the town +and his boat lying here?”</p> + +<p>“That is the adventure!”</p> + +<p>“You would turn me over to the authorities?”</p> + +<p>“No, but I would sell my parole for a mess of +woodcock, Harry.” She laid a hand upon my +arm. “I can’t tell you how much I want a little +supper at Luigi’s, Harry. I like the Chianti there. +Between us we could afford thirty cents a bottle, +could we not? Now, if I gave my parole—and +of course, every one would be here at the boat just +the same—But of course, I did not expect you +would.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you not?”</p> + +<p>“Because it is an adventure, because it will take +something of real courage, I fancy, to meet a +risk like that!”</p> + +<p>“There would be some risk for us all,” said I +truly.</p> + +<p>“There you go, balancing and not deciding. +You are no pirate.”</p> + +<p>“What will you give me if I go, Helena?” +said I.</p> + +<p>“Nothing beyond thanking you. One thing, +you must not think that I would trick or trap +you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +“Many a criminal has been trapped by a woman +whom he loves,” said I slowly. “But you would +not do that if I had your word, even though you +hated me. And you do hate me very much, do +you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, very much. But if you took me by New +Orleans without a supper at Luigi’s, I should hate +you even more.”</p> + +<p>“Jean—Jean Lafitte,” I called out in a low tone +of voice.</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!” he saluted, as he came to the +place where we stood, like some seasoned sailorman, +regardless of youthful hours of sleep.</p> + +<p>“I am going up-town with the captive maiden. +Do you stand here on watch. We shall be gone +about three hours.”</p> + +<p>“Hully gee!” ejaculated Jean Lafitte, but at once +he saluted again. “’Tis well, Black Bart,” said +he.</p> + +<p>“Tell Captain Peterson to let no one come on +board this boat under any pretense; nor must any +one leave it until I get back. If any one asks for +me, say I’m up-town.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t Aunt Lucinda going, too?” demanded +Helena.</p> + +<p>“She certainly is not!”</p> + +<p>“Is it—is it quite correct for me to go alone +with you?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +“That is your part of the adventure, Helena,” +said I calmly. An instant later I had led her +across the dingy warehouse dock, over dusty +streets, to a crooked street-car line over which I +could hear approaching one of the infrequent +cars.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE MEET THE OTHER MAN, ALSO +ANOTHER WOMAN</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">L</span>UIGI’S place, as all men know, is situated +upon a small, crooked and very dirty street, +yet none the less, it is an abode of contentment +for those who know good living. When +Helena and I entered the door I felt as one +again at home. Here were the sanded floors, +the old water-bottles, the large chandelier with +its cut glasses in the middle of the room, the +small tables with their coarse clean linen. The +same old French waiters stood here and there +about, each with impeccable apron and very +peccable shoes, as is the wont of all waiters. +But the waiters at Luigi’s are more than waiters; +they are friends, and they never forget a +face. Therefore, as always, I had no occasion +for surprise when Jean, my waiter these many +years at Luigi’s, stepped forward as though it +had been but last week and not three years ago +when he had seen me. He called me by name, +greeted me again to his city, and gently aided +Helena with her wraps and gloves.</p> + +<p>“And M’sieu can not long remain away from +us, forever?” said he.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +“It has been three years, Jean,” said I, “more +is the pity. But now, I can remain three hours—will +that serve? At the end of that time +we must away.”</p> + +<p>Jean was human, yet discreet. He knew that +when last he saw me I was a single man. Now +he had doubts. He stood hovering about, a +question on his tongue, smitten of admiration +much as had been my dog, Partial, at his first +sight of Helena. At last he made excuse to +step close behind my chair under pretense of +finding my napkin.</p> + +<p>“<i>Enfin, M’sieu?</i>” said he, smiling.</p> + +<p>“<i>Pas encore</i>, Jean!” I replied.</p> + +<p>I saw a slow flush on Helena’s cheek, but +she gave no other sign that she had overheard. +So I began forthwith making much ado about +ordering our supper, which as usual really was +much a matter of Jean’s taste.</p> + +<p>“We have to-night in the ice-boxes, M’sieu,” +said that artist, “some cock oysters which are +dreams. Moreover, I have laid aside two canvasbacks, +the best I ever saw—it was in the +hope that some really good friend of mine +would come in. Behold, I am happy—I must +have been expecting you. Believe me, we +have never had better birds than these. They are +excellent.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps the oysters, Jean,” said I, “very +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +small and dark. I presume possibly a very +small <i>fillet</i> of trout this evening, and the sauce—you +still can make it, Jean? Such <i>entrées</i> +as you like, of course. But, since Mademoiselle—” +and here I smiled—“and I, also, are +very hungry this evening, we wish a woodcock +after the canvasback, if you do not mind. Perhaps +it is not too much?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Mais non!</i>” replied Jean. “You are of those +who know well that to eat too much is not to +dine well. But I shall bring you two oysters, +<i>marinière</i>—a sauce my own wife invented. And +yes, some small bird, <i>beccasine</i>, broiled lightly—perhaps +you will enjoy it after the canvasback, +although I assure you those are excellent indeed. +We have few sweets here, as M’sieu +knows, but cheese, if you like, and of course +coffee; and always we have the red wine which +I remember M’sieu liked so much.”</p> + +<p>“It is with you, Jean,” said I. And Helena, +turning, smiled upon him swiftly, in such fashion +that he scarce touched the floor at all as he +walked out for his radishes and olives.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it nice?” said Helena. “Isn’t it like +the old times? I always loved this old town. +It seems so homelike.”</p> + +<p>“Please do not use that word, Helena,” said +I. “I wish to be entirely happy to-night, in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +belief that some time I shall know what home +is.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think Jean knew me also?” she demanded. +“Certainly, I have been here also +before.”</p> + +<p>“No one who has ever seen you, Helena, ever +forgets you. But Jean is, of course, discreet.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose he knew that I was here to-night +against my free will, and only under parole?”</p> + +<p>“Jean is wise; he knows such things ought +not to be, even if they are. And he understood +me when I said, ‘not yet.’”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said she; “quite right. <i>Pas encore!</i>”</p> + +<p>Jean returned, and as a special favor to an +old patron asked us politely if we would enjoy +a look through the kitchen and the ice-boxes. +As usual, we accepted this invitation, and +passed back through the green swing doors, +following our guide along the row of charcoal +fires, through a dingy room decorated with +shining coppers and bits of glass and silver. +These ice-boxes were such as to offer continual +delight to any epicure, what with their rows +of fat clean fishes and crabs and oysters, the +birds nicely plucked, all the dainties which this +rich market of the South could afford, from +papabotte to terrapin. Helena herself selected +two woodcock and approved the judgment of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +Jean in canvasback. Presently she turned to +me, a flush of embarrassment upon her face.</p> + +<p>“Harry,” she said, “I don’t like to say anything, +but you know—you’ve been telling me +you were so poor. Now, a girl doesn’t want +to make it difficult——”</p> + +<p>“Mademoiselle,” said I, bowing, “I am quite +able to foot the bill to-night. I had just sold +some hay before I started from home.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m awfully hungry,” she admitted; +“besides, it’s such a lark.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I; and presently, as we reached +our table again, I showed her the afternoon +papers, which as yet she had not seen. She +read through the account of our escapade, her +lips compressed; but presently she folded the +paper and laid it down without comment.</p> + +<p>“At any minute, you see,” said I, “I may be +apprehended and our little supper brought to +an end. That is why I hastened with the order. +I do not wish to hurry you in any way, however, +and we shall use the full three hours. +Although, of course, you see that the bird of +time indeed is on the wing to-night, as well as +those other birds on the broilers.”</p> + +<p>She only looked at me steadily and made no +comment. “Once suspected here,” said I, “all +is over for me, and you are free again. It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +would be entirely easy for you to make some +sign or movement which I, perhaps, could not +detect. Perhaps, at any moment, some one may +enter who knows you—as I’ve said, no one can +look at you and forget you, Helena. But +please let none of this affect your appetite. +Our little supper is our little adventure. I +hope you will enjoy both, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“You did take some chance, did you not?” +she said slowly.</p> + +<p>“It might be a chance.”</p> + +<p>“But you will be so nervous you can’t enjoy +your spread.”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least, Helena. A nervous man +has no business in the trade of piracy;—but, +ah! the <i>fillet</i> of trout, Helena.”</p> + +<p>Jean was proud of his art, the chef proud +also, and the chef knew we were here. A general +air of comfort seemed to settle down upon +our little corner of the restaurant, a quiet contentment. +For the most part, folk came here +who had no hurry and no anxiety, and it was +a sort of club for many persons who knew how +to eat and to live and to enjoy life quietly, as +life should be enjoyed. None dreamed, of +course, that aught but equal leisure existed for +our little table, where sat a rather lank and +shabby man in flannels, and a very especially +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +beautiful young woman in half evening dress. +At Luigi’s, every one is polite to every one else, +and the curiosity is but that of fraternity. Perhaps, +some eyes were cast our way, I could +not tell.</p> + +<p>Jean, in slow solemnity and pleasant ease, +brought on many things not nominated in the +bond. At length he arranged his duck-press +on his little table near us, and having squeezed +the elixir from the two dissected fowls, began +to stir the juices into a sauce of his own, made +with sherry wine and a touch of <i>filé</i>, many +things which Jean knows best. He was just +in the act of pouring this most delectable sauce +over the two bits of tender fowl upon our hot +plates, when, happening to look up, I saw +some one entering the door.</p> + +<p>“Jean, if you please,” said I, deliberately pulling +the coat-rack in front of our table, “Mademoiselle +perhaps feels a slight draft. Would +you fetch a screen?”</p> + +<p>He turned. “Helena,” said I, after a moment, +“now our adventure has come.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” said she. “Why do +you do that?”—she nodded at the screen. “Why, +I say?”</p> + +<p>“I have your parole?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad it is yes!” said I. “You could +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +break it now and escape so easily. One little +move on your part and my punishment is at +hand.”</p> + +<p>“Who was it?” she asked, suspecting.</p> + +<p>“No one much,” said I, “only our esteemed +friend, Mr. Calvin Davidson, whose waistcoat +I am now wearing. Some one is with him, I +don’t know who it is. A very nice-looking +lady, next to the most beautiful woman in this +room, I must say.”</p> + +<p>“Let me see,” said she; and I allowed her +to look through the crack in the screen.</p> + +<p>“She certainly is very stunning,” said I, “is +she not? Tall, dark, a trifle superb—I wonder—I +wonder sometimes, Helena, if Cal Davidson +is true to Poll?”</p> + +<p>“Nonsense!” was her retort. “But as you +say, here is our adventure, or at least yours. +How do you propose to get out of it?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know yet,” said I. “Just at present +I do not wish this canvasback to get cold. We +have remaining before us two hours or more, +ample time to make any plan which may be +needed. Coffee, I have found, is excellent for +plans. Let us make no plans until we have +had our coffee, after our little dinner. That will +be an hour or so yet. Plenty of time to plan, +Helena,” said I. “And please do not slight this +bird—it is delicious.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +Her eyes still were sparkling. “I’m rather +glad I came,” said she.</p> + +<p>“So am I, and I shall be glad when we are +back. But meantime I trust you, Helena, absolutely. +I will even tell you more. Davidson’s +boat, the one which we left him instead +of the <i>Belle Helène</i>, is lying in the same slip +with ours, rubbing noses with our yacht yonder, +as I showed you. Our men have talked with +his. They do not yet suspect that we are the +vessel which everybody wants to find. I am +very thankful their engineer was so sleepy. I +learned there at the wharf that Cal Davidson +was down-town at his club. He seems to have +departed long enough to find excellent company, +as usual. I am glad that he has done so, +for in all likelihood he will not return to his +own boat before to-morrow morning. He will +prefer his room at the club to his bunk on the +<i>Sea Rover</i>, if I know Cal Davidson. And by +that time I hope to be far away.”</p> + +<p>“Does he know who you are—does he know +who it was that took the <i>Belle Helène</i>?”</p> + +<p>“I think not. But, very stupidly—being so +anxious to see the original—I left a photograph +of yourself on our old boat, the <i>Sea Rover</i>. +Item, one cigarette case with my initials. Of +course, Cal Davidson may guess the simple +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +truth, or he may make a mystery of these +things. It seems he prefers to make a mystery; +and I am sure that suits me much better.”</p> + +<p>“But knowing these things—knowing that +his boat was lying right at the dock alongside +of us—why did you stop?”</p> + +<p>“I thought it was you, Helena, who suggested +this little adventure at Luigi’s! And I +promise you I am enjoying it very much. It +seems so much like old times.”</p> + +<p>“But that can’t ever be over again, Harry.”</p> + +<p>“Naturally not. But often new times are +quite as good as old ones. I can conceive of +such a thing in our case. No, I shall use this +privilege of your society to the limit, Helena, +fearing I may not see you soon again, after +once I have put you back in your hat box. You +coaxed me to leave the boat, and I shall tell +you when to return.”</p> + +<p>“Why not now?”</p> + +<p>“No, at twelve o’clock. Not earlier.”</p> + +<p>“And you propose sitting here with me till +then?”</p> + +<p>“I could imagine no better pastime, were I +condemned to die at sunrise. Tell me, do you +wish me to call Mr. Davidson?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I do not, since I gave you my +word. Besides, I know that girl with him. It’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +Sally Byington. Some call her good-looking, +but I am sure I don’t know why.”</p> + +<p>“Fie upon you! She is superb. In short, +Helena, I am not sure but she is finer-looking +than yourself!”</p> + +<p>“Indeed!”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Cal Davidson, whatever may be his +taste in neckties or waistcoats, seems to me +excellent in this other regard. Perhaps just a +trifle flamboyant for Luigi’s, but certainly stunning.”</p> + +<p>“Our relations are not such as to lead me to +discuss our friends,” she rejoined haughtily. +“And, as you say, our duck is getting cold. I +adore these canvasbacks. I would like to come +back to-morrow and have another.” She cut +savagely into her fowl.</p> + +<p>“Alas, Helena, to-morrow you will be far +away. In time I hope to reconcile you to the +simple life of piracy. Indeed, unless all plans +go wrong, we may very likely have canvasbacks +on the boat; although I can not promise you +that John will be as good a chef as our friend +here at Luigi’s. All good buccaneers use their +fair captives well.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! And why do you not ask Sally +Byington into your list of prisoners, since you +fancy her so much.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +“Nay, say not so, Helena. I trust I am +somewhat catholic in taste regarding ladies, as +any gentleman should be, yet after all, I am +gentler in my preferences. Quite aside from +that, I find one fair captive quite enough to +make me abundant trouble.”</p> + +<p>At about this time Jean approached behind +the screen, bearing a copy of a late edition of +an evening paper, which fortunately he seemed +not closely to have scanned. I took it quickly +and placed it with the front page down.</p> + +<p>“Monsieur no doubt has heard of the great +sensation?” commented Jean.</p> + +<p>“No, what is that, Jean?”</p> + +<p>“The papers have been full of nothing else. +It seems a band of cutthroat river pirates have +stolen a gentleman’s yacht, and so far as can +be told, have escaped with it down the river, +perhaps entirely to the Gulf.”</p> + +<p>“That, Jean,” said I, “is a most extraordinary +thing. Are you sure of the facts?”</p> + +<p>“Naturally—is it not all in the paper? This +gentleman then has his yacht anchored at +Natchez, and he goes ashore on important business. +Comes then this band of river ruffians +in the dark, and as though pirates of a hundred +years ago, and led by Jean Lafitte himself, they +capture the vessel!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +“<em>Mon Dieu!</em> Jean you do not say so?”</p> + +<p>“But assuredly I say so; nor is that all, Monsieur. +On board this yacht was a young and +beautiful lady of great wealth and beauty, as +well—the fiancée, so it is said, of this gentleman +who owns the yacht. What is the action +of these pirates in regard to this beautiful +young lady and her aunt, who also is upon the +yacht for the cruise? Do they place these +ladies ashore? No, they imprison them upon +the boat, and so, <em>pouf!</em> off for the gulf. Nor +has any trace of them been found from that +time till now. A rumor goes that the gentleman +who owns the yacht is at this time in New +Orleans, but as for that unfortunate young +lady, where is she to-night? I demand that, +Monsieur. Ah! And she is beautiful.”</p> + +<p>“Now, is not this a most extraordinary tale +you bring, Jean? Let us hope it is not true. +Why, if it were true, that ruffian might escape +and hide for days or weeks in the bayous +around Barataria, even as Jean Lafitte did a +hundred years ago.”</p> + +<p>“Assuredly he might. Ah, I know it well, +that country. But Jean Lafitte was no pirate, +simply a merchant who did not pay duties. +And he sold silks and laces cheap to the people +hereabout—I could show you the very causeway +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> +they built across the marsh, to reach the +place where he landed his boats at the heads of +one of the great bays—it is not far from the +plantation of Monsieur Edouard Manning, below +New Iberia. Believe me, Monsieur, the country +folk hunt yet for the buried treasure of Jean Lafitte; +and sometimes they find it.”</p> + +<p>“You please me, Jean. Tell me more of +that extraordinary person.”</p> + +<p>“Extraordinary, you may call him, Monsieur. +And he had a way with women, so it is said—even +his captives came to admire him in time, +so generous and bold was he.”</p> + +<p>“A daredevil fellow I doubt not, Jean?”</p> + +<p>“You may say that. But of great good and +many kindnesses to all the folk in the lower +parts of this state in times gone by. Now—say +it not aloud, Monsieur—scarce a family in +all Acadia but has map and key to some buried +treasure of Jean Lafitte. Why, Monsieur, here +in this very café, once worked a negro boy. +He, being sick, I help him as a gentleman does +those negro, to be sure, and he was of heart +enough to thank me for that. So one day he +came to me and told me a story of a treasure +of a descendant of Lafitte. He himself, this +negro, had helped his master to bury that same +treasure.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +“And does he know the place now? Could he +point it out?”</p> + +<p>“Assuredly, and the master who buried it +now is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Then why does not the negro boy go and +dig it up again, very naturally?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, for the best reasons. That old Frenchman, +descendant of Jean Lafitte, was no fool. +What does he in this burial of treasure? Ah! +He takes him a white parrot, a black cat and +a live monkey, and these three, all of them, he +buries on top of the treasure-box and covers +all with earth and grass above the earth. And +then above the grave he says such a malediction +upon any who may disturb it as would +alone frighten to the death any person coming +there and braving such a curse. I suggested +to the negro boy that he should show me the +spot. Monsieur, he grew pale in terror. Not +for a million pounds of solid gold would he go +near that place, him.”</p> + +<p>“That also is a most extraordinary story, +Jean. Taken with this other fairy tale which +you have told me to-night, you almost make me +feel that we are back in the great old days +which this country once saw. But alas!”</p> + +<p>“As you say, Monsieur, alas!”</p> + +<p>“Now as to that ruffian who stole the gentleman’s +yacht,” I resumed. “Has he reflected? +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +Has he indeed made his way to the Gulf? Why, +he might even be hiding here in the city somewhere.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, hardly that, and if so, he well may look +out for the law.”</p> + +<p>“I think a sherbet would be excellent for the +lady now, Jean,” I ventured, whereat he departed. +I turned over the paper and showed +Helena her own portrait on the front page, +four columns deep and set in such framing of +blackfaced scare type as made me blush for +my own sins.</p> + +<p>“It is an adventure, Helena!” said I. “Had +you not been far the most beautiful woman in +this restaurant to-night, and had not Jean been +all eyes for you, he otherwise would have +looked at this paper rather than at you. Then +he would have looked at us both and must +have seen the truth.”</p> + +<p>“It is an adventure,” said she slowly, her +color heightening; and later, “You carried it +off well, Harry.”</p> + +<p>I bowed to her across the table. “Need was +to act quickly, for even this vile newspaper +cut is a likeness of you. One glance from Jean, +which may come at any moment later, Helena, +and your parole will be needless further.”</p> + +<p>“I confess I wished to test you. It was +wrong, foolish of me, Harry.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +“You have been tested no less, Helena, to-night. +And I have found you a gentle high-born +lady, as I had always known you to be. +<i>Noblesse oblige</i>, my dear, and you have proved +it so to-night. Any time from now until twelve +you need no more than raise a finger—I might +not even see you do so—and you might go free. +Why do you not?”</p> + +<p>“If the woodcock is as good as the canvasback,” +was her somewhat irrelevant reply, “I +shall call the evening a success, after all.”</p> + +<p>But Helena scarcely more than tasted her +bird, and pushed back after a time the broiled +mushroom which Jean offered her gently.</p> + +<p>“Does not your appetite remain?” I inquired. +“Come, you must not break Jean’s heart +doubly.”</p> + +<p>She only pushed back her chair. “I am +sorry,” said she, “but I want to go back to +the boat.”</p> + +<p>“Back to the boat! You astonish me. I +thought escape from the <i>Belle Helène</i> was the +one wish of your heart these days.”</p> + +<p>“And so it is.”</p> + +<p>“Then, Helena, why not escape here and +now?”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I do not mean for you to break your parole—I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +know you too well for that. But give me +additional parole, my dear girl. Give me your +word. Say that one word. Then we can rise +here and announce to Mr. Davidson and all the +world and its newspapers that no crime has +been done and only a honeymoon has been +begun. Come, Helena, all the world loves a +lover. All New Orleans will love us if you +will raise your finger and say the word.”</p> + +<p>I looked toward her. Her head was bent +and tears were dropping from her eyes, tears +faithfully concealed by her kerchief. But she +said no word to me, and at her silence my own +heart sank—sank until my courage was quite +gone, until I felt the return of a cold brutality. +Still I endeavored to be gentle with one who +deserved naught of gentleness.</p> + +<p>“Do not hurry, Helena,” I said. “We can +return when you like. But the salad—and the +coffee! And see, you have not touched your +wine.”</p> + +<p>“Take me back,” she said, her voice low. +“I hate you. Till the end of the world I’ll hate +you.”</p> + +<p>“If I could believe that, Helena, it would +matter nothing to me to go a mile farther on +any voyage, a foot farther to shield myself or +you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +“Take me back,” she said to me again. “I +want to go to Aunt Lucinda.”</p> + +<p>“Jean,” said I, a moment later when he reappeared. +“Mademoiselle wishes to see one +more ice-box in the kitchen. We are in search +of something. May we go again?”</p> + +<p>Jean spread out his arms in surprise, but +pushed open the green door. We thus passed, +shielded by our screen and unobserved. Once +within, I grasped Jean firmly by the shoulder +and pressed a ten dollar bill into his hand, with +other money for the reckoning.</p> + +<p>“Take this, Jean, for yourself. We do not +care to pass out at the front, for certain reasons—do +you comprehend? It is of Mademoiselle.”</p> + +<p>“It is of Mademoiselle? Ah, depend upon +me. What can I do?”</p> + +<p>“This. Leave us here, and we will walk +about. Meantime go out the back way to the +alley, Jean, and have a taxicab ready at the +mouth of the alley. Come quick when it is +arranged and let us go, because we must go at +once. At another time, Jean, we will return, I +trust more happily. Then we shall order such +a dinner as will take Luigi himself a day to +prepare, my friend!”</p> + +<p>“For Mademoiselle?”</p> + +<p>“For Madame, Jean, as I hope.” And now I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +showed him the portrait on the front page of +the newspaper he had brought me. “Quick,” I +said, “and since you have been faithful, some +day I will explain all this to you—with Madame, +as I hope.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE BURN ALL BRIDGES</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“B</span>UT, Monsieur,” began Jean, a few moments +later, as he entered from the alley +door.</p> + +<p>“<i>Eh bien?</i> What then, Jean?” I demanded +hastily, already leading Helena toward the +door.</p> + +<p>“This! This!” And he waved in my face a +copy of the same paper which had lain on our +table. “The streets are full of it. And I see, +I behold—I recognize! It is Mademoiselle—that +is to be Madame!”</p> + +<p>My face flushed hotly. “As I hope, Jean.” +That was all I said. “Now, please, out of our +way. Is the taxi there?”</p> + +<p>He stepped aside. I heard his voice, eager, +apologetic, but knew that now no time must be +lost. Vague sounds of voices came to us from +the main room of the café, ordinarily so quiet. +I felt, rather than knew, that soon the news +would be about town. The throb of the taxi +was music to my ears when I found it in the +dark.</p> + +<p>“Stop for nothing,” said I to the driver, as I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +closed the door. “Slip K, on the river-front, +below the warehouses. Stop at the car tracks +where they turn. And go fast—I must catch +a boat that is just leaving.”</p> + +<p>“What boat—from there—are you sure, sir?” +asked he, touching his cap.</p> + +<p>“Of course I’m sure. Go on! Don’t stop +to talk, man!”</p> + +<p>He made no answer to this, but turned to his +wheel. We shot out into Royal Street, turned +down it, spun into a narrow way past the old +Cathedral, crossed Jackson Square in the full +moonlight, passed the Old Market, and threaded +dark and dirty thoroughfares parallel to the +river. None sought to stay us, though many +paused in the gently squalid life of that section, +to look after our churning car, a thing not +usual there so far from depot or usual landing +place.</p> + +<p>Helena sat silent, looking fixedly ahead +through the glass at the driver’s back; nor did +I find words myself. In truth, I was as one +now carried forward on the wings of adventure +itself, with small plans, and no duty beyond +taking each situation as it might later come. +A dull feeling that I had sinned beyond forgiveness +came upon me, a conviction that my +brutality to one thus innocent and tender had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +passed all limits of atonement. She could never +forgive me now, I felt; and what was almost +as intolerable in the reflection, I could not forgive +myself, could not find any specious argument +longer to justify myself in thus harrying +the sensibilities of a woman such as this one +who now sat beside me in this mad midnight +errand, proud, pale and silent. Slowly I sought +to adjust myself to the thought of defeat, to +the feeling that my presumption now had o’er-leaped +itself. Yes, I must say good-by to her, +must release her; and this time, as I well knew, +forever.</p> + +<p>But, though I turned toward her half a dozen +times in these few minutes, she made no response +to what she must have known was my +demand upon her attention. I gathered her +gloves for her, and her flowers, but she only +took them, her lips parting in courtesy, not in +warmth, and no sound came to my ears, straining +always to hear her voice, a pleasant sound +in a world of discords ever. I even touched +her arm, suddenly, impulsively. “Helena!” +But she, not knowing that I meant to give her +liberty, though over a dead heart, shrank as +though I had added physical insult to my +verbal taunts. Anyway I turned, I was fast in +the net of circumstance, fanged by the springs +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +of misapprehension.... Well, then, but one +thing remained. She had said it was a man’s +place to fight, and so now it would be! I +must go on, and take my punishment until justice +had been done. Justice and my own success +I no longer confused in my own mind; +but in my soul was the grim resolution that +justice should first be done to one human soul, +even though that chanced to be my own. After +that, I should get her again in the hands of +her friends and myself; indeed, disappear beyond +all seeking, in parts of the world best +known to myself. If I myself were fair, why +should not fairness as well be given to me?</p> + +<p>And with no more than this established, and +nothing definite in plan, either, for the present, +I mechanically opened the door of the taxi for +her when the driver pulled up and bent a +querying face about to ask whether or not we +now were opposite Slip K. I noted that he +did not at once drive away. Evidently he sat +for some moments gazing after us as we disappeared +in the gloom of the river-front. His +tale, as I afterward learned, enabled the morning +papers to print a conclusive story describing +the abduction of Miss Emory and her undoubted +retention on the stolen yacht, which, +after lying at or near New Orleans, some time +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +that night, once more mysteriously had disappeared.</p> + +<p>No doubt remained, according to this new +story, that the supplies put aboard at Slip K +by Lavallier and Thibodeau had gone to this +very craft, the stolen yacht! With this came +many wild and confusing accounts and descriptions, +including a passionate interview with Mr. +Calvin Davidson, of New York, who had announced +his intention of overhauling these ruffians, +at any cost whatsoever; and much counsel +to the city officials, mingled with the bosom-beating +of one enterprising journal which declared +it had put in commission a yacht of its +own, under charge of two of its ablest reporters, +who had instructions to take up the chase +and to remain out until the mystery had been +solved and this beautiful young woman had +been rescued from her horrible situation and +restored again to her home. There were more +portraits of Helena—furnished, most like, from +Cal Davidson’s collection; one also of Aunt +Lucinda (from a photograph of far earlier +days); and lastly, a half-page portrait of myself, +the unnamed ruffian who was the undoubted +leader in this abduction—the portrait +being drawn by a staff artist “from description +of eye-witnesses.” As I later saw this portrait +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +I rejoiced that I was long ignorant of its existence: +and had I known that night that yonder +chauffeur to whom I had given undue +largess had such treason as that portrait in his +soul, I know not what I might have done with +him.</p> + +<p>But of this misinformation, of course, I was +at the time ignorant, as was all the city ignorant +of the truth. What happened was otherwise, +nor was the truth learned even by the +great metropolitan journals of the North, which +now recognized the existence of a “big story”, +and added their keener noses to the trail. The +great fact overlooked by them all was that +they pursued no criminal, but a man of education, +I may fairly say of brains.</p> + +<p>In my law practise many baffling cases came +to me, because I most liked, precisely, that sort +of case. Once, for instance, a family of my +town well-nigh was disrupted by a series of +anonymous letters, done in typewriting, accusing +an honorable man of dishonorable conduct. +The letters left the man’s wife in an agony of +loyalty and suspicion alike. He brought me +the letters, and to me the case was simple from +the start. I got the repair slips of a certain +typewriter house, and compared them until I +found a machine with a bent letter M—knowing +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +as I did that each machine has its own individuality +as ineradicable and as inescapable +as any personal handwriting. So at last I went +to a small outlying city, and going into a business +house there asked to see the stenographer +in private. “My dear Miss ——,” I said to her, +“why do you persist in sending these letters +to Mr. ——?” I laid them before her, and +she wept and confessed, very naturally.</p> + +<p>That was merely jealousy of a discharged +employee; and it was easy as a case—easier +I always thought, than the probate case I won +over a contested signature charge filed by certain +heirs under a will. In this case I merely +went to the dead man’s earlier home and +learned his history. Time out of mind he, a +thrifty and respected German, had held some +petty county office or other; and by going over +old county warrants and receipts signed in +forty years by my man, I discovered what I +already knew—that a man’s signature changes +many times during his life, especially if he begins +life as an uncultured immigrant and advances +to a fair business success later in his +life: so that his later signatures on records +proved his signature in his will.</p> + +<p>Again, liking these simple mysteries, I had +long ago learned to laugh at the old and foolish +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +assertion that murder will out, that not the +most skilful criminal can long conceal a capital +crime. It is not true. No one knows how +many murders and other crimes go unsolved +or even unknown. The trouble with murderers, +as I knew well enough, was that they lacked +mentality. And often I said to myself that +were it in my heart to kill a man, I assuredly +could do so, and all my life escape unsuspected +of the crime.</p> + +<p>It may be that my fondness for these less +obvious things in the law had rendered me a +trifle different from my fellow men. I could +never approach any question in life without +wanting to go all about it and to the bottom +and top, like a cooper with his barrel. I was +thus actuated, without doubt, in my relations +years since with Helena Emory—I knew the +shrewdness and accuracy of my own trained +mind. I confess I exulted in the infallible, +relentless logic of my mind, a mind able and +well trained, especially well trained in reason +and argument. So, when I put the one great +brief of all my life before Helena, my splendid +argument why should she love me, I did so, +at first, in the conviction that it must be convincing. +Had I not myself worked it out in +each detail, had not my calm, cool, accurate +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +reason guarded each portal? Was it, indeed, +not a perfect brief—that one I held in my first +lost case—the lost case which sent me out of +my profession, left me a stranded hulk of a +man?</p> + +<p>But then, when these two pirate youngsters +had found me and touched me with the living +point of some new flame of life, so that I knew +a vast world existed beyond the nature of the +intellect, the old ways clung to me, after all. +Even as I swore to lay hold on youth and on +adventure (and on love, if, in sooth, that might +be for me now), I could not fight as yet wholly +bare of the old weapons that had so long fitted +my hand. So, even on that very morning when +we set forth from my farm to be pirates, my +mind ran back to its old cunning, and I recalled +my earlier boast to myself that if I ever cared +to be a criminal I knew I could be able to cover +my tracks.</p> + +<p>Those writing-folk, therefore, who now +wasted thousands of dollars in pursuit of trace +and trail of Black Bart, wealthy ex-lawyer, +knew nothing of their man, and guessed nothing +of his caliber or of his methods. They +even failed to look in plain sight for their trail +maker. And having done so, they forgot that +water leaves no trail. Yet that simple thought +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +had come to my mind as I had sat at breakfast +in my own house, some weeks before this +time! Even then I had planned all this.</p> + +<p>Absorbed as I had been in this pursuit of +Helena, baffled as I had been by her, unhappy +as I now was over her own unhappiness, fierce +as was my love for her, still and notwithstanding, +some trace of my old self clung to me +even now when, her hand on my arm, I guided +Helena in silence over the creaking planks of +the dock, and saw, at last, dim beyond the +edge, the boom of the Mississippi’s tawny flood, +rolling on and onward to the sea. Here was +a task, a problem, a chase, an endeavor, an +adventure! To it, I was impelled by my old +training; into it I was thrust by all these +fevers of the blood. Even though she did not +love me, she was woman ... in the dark air +of night, it seemed to me, I could smell the +faint maddening fragrance of her hair.... +No. It was too late! I would not release +her. I would go on, now!</p> + +<p>And with this resolution, formed when I +caught sight of the passing flood, I found a +sudden peace and calm, and so knew that I +was fit for my adventure as yon other boy, +L’Olonnois, was for his.</p> + +<p>I paused at the edge of the wharf, at the side +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +of our boat. We still were arm in arm, still +silent, though she must have felt the beating +of my heart.</p> + +<p>“Helena,” I whispered, “yonder, one step, +and your parole is over. Here it is not. That +boat, just astern, is the one in which Cal Davidson +chased us all the way from Natchez, in +which I chased him all the way from Dubuque. +His men do not know we are here, nor does +he as yet. Now, what is it that you wish to +do?”</p> + +<p>She stood silent for some time, tightening +her wrap at the throat against the river damp, +and made no answer, though her gaze took in +the dark hull of the low-lying craft made fast +below us. When at last:</p> + +<p>“One thing,” she began, “I will not do.”</p> + +<p>“What is it?” I asked. We spoke low, but +I well knew my men were aware of our coming.</p> + +<p>“I shall ask no favor of you.” And as she +spoke, she stepped lightly on the rubbered deck +of the <i>Belle Helène</i>.</p> + +<p>“Halt! Who goes there?” called the hoarse +voice of Jean Lafitte, the faithful: and I knew +the joy of the commander feeling that loyalty +is his.</p> + +<p>“’Tis I, Black Bart,” I answered, full and +clear. “Cast off, my friends!”</p> + +<p>At once the <i>Belle Helène</i> was full of activity. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +Peterson I met at the wheel. I heard the bells +jangle below. I saw Jean, active as a cat, +ready at the mooring-stub, waiting for the line +to ease. Then with my own hand I threw on +every light of the <i>Belle Helène</i>, so that she +blazed, in the power of six thousand candles, +search-light and all: so that what had been a +passing web of gloom now became a rippling +river. The warehouses started into light and +shade, the shadows of the wharf fled, the decks +of the grimy craft alongside became open of +all their secrets.</p> + +<p>And now, revealed full in the flood of light +as she stood at the side portal, Helena did +what I had not planned. Freed of her parole +she was—and she had asked no favor of me—so +she had right to make attempt to escape; +and I gently stepped before her even as Jean +cast off and sprang aboard: and as I heard +L’Olonnois’ voice imperatively demanding silence +of the pounding at the after cabin door. +All at once, I heard what Helena heard—the +rattle of wheels on the stone flagging of the +street beyond. And then I saw her fling back +her cloak and stand with cupped hands. Her +voice was high, clear and unwavering, such +voice as a pirate’s bride should have, fearless +and bold.</p> + +<p>“Ahoy, there! Help! Help!” she cried.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +Some sort of shout came from the street, we +knew not from whom. A noise of an opening +hatch came from the <i>Sea Rover</i> at our stern, +and a man’s tousled head came into view.</p> + +<p>“What’s goin’ on here,” he demanded, as +quaveringly as querulously.</p> + +<p>I made no answer, but saw our bows crawl +out and away, felt the sob of the screws, the +arm of the river also, and knew a vast and +pleasing content with life.</p> + +<p>“L’Olonnois!” I called through the megaphone.</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!” I heard his piping rejoinder.</p> + +<p>“Cast loose the stern-chaser and fire her at +yon varlet if he makes a move.” I knew our +deck cannon was loaded with nothing more +deadly than newspapers, but I also knew that +valor feeds on action. Not that I had given +orders to fire on the world in general. So, I +confess, I was somewhat surprised, soon after +the shout of approval which greeted my command, +to hear the air rent by the astonishing +reverberation of our Long Tom, which rolled +like thunder all along the river-front, breaking +into a thousand echoes in the night.</p> + +<p>I heard the patter of feet along the deck, +and had sight of Jean Lafitte tugging at a +halyard. Not content with our defiance of law +and order, he must needs break out the Jolly +Rover with its skull and cross-bones. And as +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +we swung swiftly out into midstream, ablaze +in light from bow to stern, ghostlike in our +swiftness and the silence of our splendid engines, +I had reason to understand all the descriptive +writing which, as I later learned, +greeted the defiant departure of this pirate +craft and its ruffian crew. Thus I bade all the +world come and take from me what I had +taken for my own.</p> + +<p>I stepped to the wheel with Peterson, expecting +to find him pale in consternation. To +my surprise he was calm, save for a new glitter +in his eye.</p> + +<p>“There’s nothing on the river can touch her,” +said he, as he picked up his first channel light +and called for more speed. “Let ’em come!”</p> + +<p>A sudden recklessness had caught us all, it +seemed, the old spirit of lawless man breaking +the leash of custom. I shared it—with exultation +I knew I shared it with these others. The +lust of youth for adventure held us all, and the +years were as naught.</p> + +<p>I turned now to find Helena, and met L’Olonnois, +his face beaming.</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t that a peach of a shot?” said he. +“It would of blew yon varlet out of the water, +if I’d had anything to load with except just +them marbles. Are you looking for Auntie +Helen? She has just went below.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE REACH THE SPANISH MAIN</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was as Peterson had said—nothing on +the river could touch the <i>Belle Helène</i>. And +it also was as I had not said but had thought—the +water left no trail. By daylight we were +far below the old battle-field, far below the old +forts, far below La Hache, and among the +channels of the great estuary whose marshes +spread for scores of miles on either hand impenetrably. +Quarantine lay yonder, the Southwest +Passage opened here; and on beyond, a +stone’s throw now for a vessel logging our +smooth speed, rolled the open sea. And still +there rose behind us the smoke of no pursuing +craft, nor did any seek to bar our way. So far +as I knew, the country had not been warned +by any wire down-stream from the city. We +saw to it that no calling points were passed in +daylight. As for the chance market shooter +paddling his log pirogue to his shooting +ground in the dawn, or the occasional sportsman +of some ducking club likewise engaged, +they saluted us gaily enough, but without suspicion. +Even had they known, I doubt +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +whether they would have informed on us, for +all the world loves a lover, and these Southerners +themselves now traveled waters long known +to adventure and romance.</p> + +<p>So at last, as the sun rose, we saw the last +low marshy points widen, flatten and recede, +and beyond the outlying towers of the lights +caught sight of lazy liners crawling in, and +felt the long throb of the great Gulf’s pulse, +and sniffed the salt of the open sea.</p> + +<p>I had not slept, nor had Peterson, nor had +Williams, my engineer. My men never demurred +when hard duty was asked of them, +but put manly pride above union hours, I fancy, +resolved to show me they could endure as long +as I. And I asked none to endure more. +Moreover, even my pirate crew was seized of +some new zest. I question whether either Jean +Lafitte or Henri L’Olonnois slept, save in his +day clothing, that night of our run from New +Orleans; for now, just as we swept free of the +last point, so that we might call that gulf +which but now had been river, I heard a sound +at my elbow as I bent over a chart, and turned +to see both my associates, the collars of their +sweaters turned up against the damp chill of +the morning.</p> + +<p>“Where are we now, Black Bart?” asked +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +Jean Lafitte. I could see on his face the mystic +emotion of youth, could see his face glorified +in the uplifting thrill of this mystery of +the sea and the dawn and the unknown which +now enveloped us. “Where are we now?” he +asked; but it was as though he feared he slept +and dreamed, and that this wondrous dream of +the dawn might rudely be broken by some +command summoning him back to life’s routine.</p> + +<p>“Surely your soul should tell you, Jean Lafitte,” +said I, “for yonder, as I may say, now +rolls the Spanish Main. Its lift is now beneath +our feel. You are home again, Jean Lafitte. +Yonder are the bays and bayous and channels +in the marshes, where your boats used to hide. +And there, L’Olonnois, my hearty, with you, I +was used to ride the open sea, toward the +Isles of Spain, waiting for the galleons to +come.”</p> + +<p>“I know, I know!” said my blue-eyed pirate +softly and reverently; and so true was all his +note to that inner struggling soul that lay both +in his bosom and my own, that I ceased to +lament for my sin in so allowing modern youth +to be misled, and turned to him with open hand, +myself also young with the undying youth of +the world.</p> + +<p>“Many a time, Black Bart,” said L’Olonnois +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +solemnly, “have we crowded on full sail when +the lookout gave the word of a prize a-comin’, +while we laid to in some hidden channel over +yonder.”</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, many a time, many a time, my +hearty.”</p> + +<p>“—An’ loosed the bow-chaser an’ shot away +her foremast.”</p> + +<p>“—At almost the first shot, L’Olonnois.”</p> + +<p>“—So that her top hamper came down in a +run an’ swung her broadside to our batteries.”</p> + +<p>“—And we poured in a hail of chain-shot and +set her hull afire.”</p> + +<p>“—And then launched the boats for the +boardin’ parties,” broke in Jean Lafitte, standing +on one leg in his excitement; “—an’ so +made her a prize. An’ then we made ’em walk +the plank amid scenes of wassail—all but the +fair captives.”</p> + +<p>I fell silent. But L’Olonnois’ blue eyes were +glowing. “An’ them we surrounded with every +rude luxury,” said he, “finally retiring to the +fortresses of the hidden channels of the coast, +where we defied all pursuit. This looks like +one of them places, though I may be mistook,” +he added judiciously. I shuddered to see how +Jimmy’s grammar had deteriorated under my +care.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +“Yes,” said I, “we are now near to several +of those places, scenes of our bold deeds. The +south coast of Louisiana lies on our right, cut +by a thousand bays and channels deep enough +for hiding a pinnace or even a stout schooner. +Yonder, Jean, is Barataria Bay, your old home. +Here, under my finger, is Côte Blanche. Here +comes the Chafalay, through its new channel—all +this floating hyacinth, all this red water, +comes from Texas soil, from the Red River, +now discharging in new mouths. Yonder, west +of the main boat channels that make toward +the railways far inland, lie the salt reefs and +the live-oak islands. Here is the long key they +now call Marsh Island. It was not an island +until you, stout Jean Lafitte, ordered the +Yankee Morrison to take a hundred black +slaves with spades and cut a channel across +the neck, so that you could get through more +quickly from the Spanish Main to the hidden +bayous where your boats lay concealed—until +the wagons from Iberia could come and traffic +at the causeway for your wares. Do you not +remember it well?”</p> + +<p>“Aye, that I do, Black Bart!” said he; and I +was sure he did.</p> + +<p>“And yonder channel, once just wide enough +for a yawl, is to-day washed out wide enough +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +for a fleet to pass through—though not deep +enough. In that fact now lies our safety.”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean, Black Bart?” demanded +he.</p> + +<p>“Why, that all this water over yonder west +of us is so shallow that it takes a wise oyster +boat to get through to Morgan City. The +shrimpers who reap these waters, even the +market shooting schooners who carry canvasbacks +out of these feeding beds in the marshes, +have to know the tides and the winds as well, +and if one be wrong the boat goes aground on +these wide shoals. Less than a fathom here +and here and here on the chart soundings—less +than that if an offshore wind blows.”</p> + +<p>“You mean we’ll go aground?”</p> + +<p>“No, I mean that any pursuer very likely +would. The glass is falling now. Soon the +wind will rise. If it comes offshore for five +hours—and it will wait for five hours before +it does come offshore—we shall be safe, inside, +at one of your old haunts, Jean Lafitte; and +back of us will lie fifty miles of barrier—yon +varlet may well have a care.”</p> + +<p>“Yon varlet don’t know where we have +went,” commented L’Olonnois in his alarming +grammar.</p> + +<p>“No, that is true. The water leaves no trail. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +Most Northerners go to Florida for the winter, +and not to these marshes. Methinks they will +have a long chase.”</p> + +<p>“An’ here,” said Jean Lafitte, with much enthusiasm, +“we kin lie concealed an’ dart out +on passin’ craft that strike our fancy as prizes.”</p> + +<p>“We could,” said I, “but we will not.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?” He seemed chilled by my reply.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we shall not need to,” I hastened to +explain. “We have everything we need for a +long stay here. We can live chiefly by hunting +and fishing for a month or so, until——”</p> + +<p>“Until the fair captive has gave her consent,” +broke in L’Olonnois, also with enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I, endeavoring a like enthusiasm. +“Or, at least, until we find it needful to go +inland to one of the live-oak islands. There +are houses there. I know some of the planters +over yonder.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s make them places scenes of rapeen!” +suggested Jean Lafitte anxiously. “They must +have gold and jewels. Besides, I bear it well +in mind, many a time have I and my stout crew +buried chests of treasure on them islands. We +c’d dig ’em up. Maybe them folks has a’ready +dug ’em up. Then why not search their strongholds +with a stout party of our own hardy bullies, +Black Bart?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +“No,” said I mildly; “for several reasons I +think it best for my hardy bullies to go and eat +some breakfast and then go to sleep. If we +go into the live-oak heights above Côte Blanche, +I think we’ll only ask for salt. I am almost +sure, for instance, that my friend Edouard +Manning, of Bon Secours plantation, would give +me salt if I asked it. He has done so before. +Beshrew me, it should go hard with him if he +refused.”</p> + +<p>“There’s a barrel an’ eight boxes o’ sacks o’ +salt aboard,” said the practical Jean Lafitte. +“What’d you want so much salt for?”</p> + +<p>“’Twas yon varlet’s idea,” said I, “when he +laid in the ship’s stores. But I had a mind +that, to my taste, no salt is better than that +made by the Manning plantation mines. But +now,” I added, “to your breakfast, after you +have bathed.”</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, after they had left me, +and pointing to the chart, “lay her west by +south. I want to run inside the Timbalier +Shoals.”</p> + +<p>“Very shallow there, Mr. Harry—just look +at the soundings, sir.”</p> + +<p>“That’s why I want to go. Hold on till +you get the light at this channel here, southeast +of the Côte Blanche. You’ll get a lot of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +floating hyacinth, but do what you can. I’ll +take my trick, as soon as I get a bite to eat. +By night we’ll be over our hurry and we can +all arrange for better sleep.”</p> + +<p>“And then—I—ahem! Mr. Harry, what are +your plans?” He was just a trifle troubled +over all this.</p> + +<p>“My plans, Peterson,” said I, “are to anchor +off Timbalier to-night, to anchor in this channel +of Côte Blanche to-morrow—and to eat +breakfast now.” Saying which I left him +gloomily shaking his head, but laying her now +west by south as I had made the course.</p> + +<p>“The glass is falling mighty fast, Mr. Harry,” +he called over his shoulder to me by way of +encouragement.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS CERTAIN POLITE CONVERSATION</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">M</span>Y boy had ironed my trousers, that is to +say, the trousers I had given him the year +previous, and which he now had loaned to me, +my extremity being greater than his own. He +had laundered my collars—a most useful boy, +my China boy. I had, moreover, delving in +Cal Davidson’s wardrobe, discovered yet another +waistcoat, if possible more radiant even +than the one with pink stripes, for that it was +cross hatched with bars of pale pea green and +mauve—I know not from what looms he obtained +these wondrous fabrics. Thus bravely +attired after breakfast, just before luncheon, +indeed, it was, I felt emboldened to call upon +the captive ladies once more. With much +shame I owned that I had not seen Auntie +Lucinda for nearly two days—and with much +trepidation, also, for I knew not what new bitterness +her soul, meantime, might have distilled +into venom against my coming.</p> + +<p>I knocked at the door of the ladies’ cabin, +the aftermost suite on the boat, and, at first, +had no answer. The door, naturally, on a boat +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +of this size, would be low, the roof rising above +decks no higher than one’s waist; and as I bent +to knock again, the door of the companion +stairs was suddenly thrust open against my +face, and framed in the opening thus made, +there appeared the august visage of Auntie +Lucinda herself.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir-r-r-r!” said she, after a time, regarding +me sternly. I can by no means reproduce +the awfulness of her “r’s.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, madam?” I replied mildly, holding my +nose, which had been smitten by the door.</p> + +<p>She made no answer, but stood, a basilisk +in mien.</p> + +<p>“I just came, my dear Mrs. Daniver,” I began, +“to ask you——”</p> + +<p>“And time you did, sir-r-r-r! I was just coming +to ask <em>you</em>——”</p> + +<p>“And time you did, my dear Mrs. Daniver—I +have missed you so much, these several days. +So I just called to ask for your health.”</p> + +<p>“You need not trouble about my health!”</p> + +<p>“But I do, I do, madam! I give you my +word, I was awake all night, thinking of—of +your neuralgia. Neuralgia is something—something +fierce, in a manner of speech—if one +has it in the morning, my dear Mrs. Daniver.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t ‘dear Mrs. Daniver’ me! I’m not +your dear Mrs. Daniver at all.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +“Then whose dear Mrs. Daniver are you, my +dear Mrs. Daniver?” I rejoined most impudently.</p> + +<p>“If the poor dear Admiral were alive,” said +she, sniffing, “you should repent those words!”</p> + +<p>“I wish the poor dear Admiral were here,” +said I. “I should like to ask an abler sailorman +than Peterson what to do, with the glass +falling as it is, and the holding ground none +too good for an anchor. I thought it just as +well to come and tell you to prepare for the +worst.”</p> + +<p>“The worst—what do you mean?” She now +advanced three steps upward, so that her shoulders +were above the cabin door. Almost mechanically +she took my hand.</p> + +<p>“The worst just now is nothing worse than +an orange with ice, my dear Mrs. Daniver. +And I only wanted you to come out on deck +with—Miss Emory—and see how blue the sea +is.”</p> + +<p>She advanced another step, being fond of an +iced orange at eleven-thirty. But now she +paused. “My niece is resting,” said she, feeling +her way.</p> + +<p>“No, I am not,” I heard a voice say. Inadvertently +I turned and almost perforce glanced +down the cabin stair. Helena, in a loose morning +wrap of pink, was lying on the couch. She +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +now cast aside the covering of eider-down, +and shaking herself once, sprang up the stairs, +so that her dark hair appeared under Auntie +Lucinda’s own. Slowly that obstacle yielded, +and both finally stood on the after deck. The +soft wind caught the dark tendrils of Helena’s +hair. With one hand she pushed at them. The +other caught her loose robe about her softly +outlined figure.</p> + +<p>“Helena!” remarked her aunt, frowning.</p> + +<p>“I want an orange,” remarked Miss Emory, +addressing the impartial universe, and looking +about for John.</p> + +<p>“And shall have it. But,” said I, finding a +soft rug at the cabin-top, “I think perhaps you +may find the air cool. Allow me.” I handed +them chairs, and with a hand that trembled a +bit put the soft covering over Helena’s shoulders. +She drew it close about her with one +hand, and her dark hair flowing about her +cheeks, found her orange with the other when +John came with his tray.</p> + +<p>It was a wondrous morning in early fall. +Never had a southern sky been more blue, +never the little curling waves saucier on the +Gulf. The air was mild, just fresh enough for +zest. Around us circled many great white +gulls. Across the flats sailed a long slow line +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +of pelicans; and out yonder, tossing up now +and then like a black floating blanket, I could +see a great raft of wild duck, taking their midday +rest in safety. All the world seemed a +million miles away. Care did not exist. And—so +intimate and swiftly comprehensive is the +human soul, especially the more primal soul +of woman—already and without words, this +young woman seemed to feel the less need of +conversation, to recognize the slackening rein +of custom. So that a rug and a wrapper—granted +always also an aunt—seemed to her +not amiss as full equipment for reception of a +morning caller.</p> + +<p>“A very good orange,” said she at last.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said her aunt promptly; “I’m sure we +ought to thank Mr. Davidson for them. He +was <em>such</em> a good provider.”</p> + +<p>“Except in waistcoats,” I protested, casually +indicating his latest contribution to my wardrobe. +“Quantity, yes, I grant that, but as to +quality, never! But why speak ill of the absent, +especially regarding matters of an earlier and +bygone day? Yon varlet no longer exists for +us—we no longer exist for him. We have +passed, as two ships pass yonder in the channel. +I know not what he may be doing now, +unless carrying roses to Miss Sally Byington. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +Certainly he can not know that I, his hated +rival, am safe from all pursuit behind the +Timbalier Shoals, and carrying oranges to a +young lady in my belief almost as beautiful as +the beautiful Sally.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Lucinda turned upon me a baleful eye. +“You grow flippant as well as rude, sir! As +though you knew anything of that Byington +girl. I doubt if you ever saw her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes—last night. Miss Emory and I +both saw her, last night, at Luigi’s. As for +yon varlet’s providing, while I would not too +much criticize a man whose waistcoats I wear +even under protest, it is but fair to say that +these oranges and all the fresh things taken on +at New Orleans, are of my providing, and not +his. He was so busy providing other things +for Miss Sally Byington.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think she is so beautiful,” said +Helena, ceasing with her orange. “Her color +is so full. Very likely she’ll be blowsy in a +few years.”</p> + +<p>“How can you say so!” I rebuked, with +much virtuous indignation. But at the time I +felt my heart leap at sight of Helena herself, +the lines of her slim graceful figure defined +even under the rug she had drawn about her +neck, the wind-blown little neck curls and the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +long fuller lock now plain against her fresh +face, blown pale by the cool salt air that sang +above us gently. I could no longer even feign +an interest in any other woman in the world. +So very unconsciously I chuckled to myself, +and Helena heard me.</p> + +<p>“You don’t think so yourself!” she remarked.</p> + +<p>“Think what?”</p> + +<p>“That she is so beautiful.”</p> + +<p>“No, I do not. Not as beautiful as——”</p> + +<p>“Look at the funny bird!” said Helena suddenly. +Yet I could see nothing out of the ordinary +in the sea-bird she pointed out, skimming +and skipping close by.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” demanded Aunt Lucinda, also suddenly, +“how long is this to last?”</p> + +<p>“You mean the orange-dish, Mrs. Daniver?” +I queried politely. “As long as you like. I +also am a good provider, although to no credit, +as it seems.”</p> + +<p>“You know I do not mean the oranges, sir. +I mean this whole foolish business. You are +putting yourself liable to the law.”</p> + +<p>“So did Jean Lafitte, over yonder in Barataria,” +said I, “but he lived to a ripe old age +and became famous. Why not I as well?”</p> + +<p>“—You are ruining those two boys. I weep +to think of our poor Jimmy—why, he lords it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +about as though he owned the boat. And +such language!”</p> + +<p>“He shall own a part of her if he likes, if +all comes out well,” said I. “And as for Jean +Lafitte, Junior, rarely have I seen a boy of +better judgment, cooler mind, or more talent +in machinery. He shall have an education, if +he likes; and I know he will like.”</p> + +<p>“It is wonderful what a waistcoat will do +for the imagination,” remarked Helena, wholly +casually. I turned to her.</p> + +<p>“I presume it is Mr. Davidson who is to be +the fairy prince,” added Aunt Lucinda.</p> + +<p>“No, myself,” I spoke quietly. Aunt Lucinda +for once was almost too unmistakable in her +sniff of scorn.</p> + +<p>“I admit it seems unlikely,” said I. “Still, +this is a wonderful age. Who can say what +may be gained by the successful pirate!”</p> + +<p>“You act one!” commented Aunt Lucinda. +“It is brutal. It is outrageous. It is abominable. +No gentleman would be guilty of such +conduct.”</p> + +<p>“I grant you,” said I, but flushed under the +thrust. “But I am no longer a gentleman +where that conflicts with the purpose of my +piracy. I come of a family, after all, madam, +who often have had their way in piracy.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +“And left a good useful business to go away +to idleness! And now speak of doing large +things! With whose money, pray?”</p> + +<p>“You are very direct, my dear Mrs. Daniver,” +said I mildly, “but the catechism is not +yet so far along as that.”</p> + +<p>“But why did you do this crazy thing?”</p> + +<p>“To marry Helena, and with your free consent +as her next friend,” said I, swiftly turning +to her. “Since I must be equally frank. Please +don’t go!” I said to Helena, for now, very pale, +she was starting toward the cabin door. But +she paid no heed to me, and passed.</p> + +<p>“So now you have it, plainly,” said I to Mrs. +Daniver.</p> + +<p>She turned on me a face full of surprise and +anger mingled. “How dare you, after all that +has passed? You left the girl years ago. You +have no business, no fortune, not even the girl’s +consent. I’ll not have it! I love her.” The +good woman’s lips trembled.</p> + +<p>“So do I,” said I gently. “That is why we +all are here. It is because of this madness +called love. Ah, Mrs. Daniver, if you only +knew! If I could make you know! But surely +you do know, you, too, have loved. Come, +may you not love a lover, even one like myself? +I’ll be good to Helena. Believe me, she is my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +one sacred charge in life. I love her. Not +worthy of her, no—but I love her.”</p> + +<p>“That’s too late.” But I saw her face relent +at what she heard. “I have other plans. +And you should have told her what you have +told me.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, have I not?” But then I suddenly remembered +that, by some reversal of my logical +mind, here I was, making love to Auntie Lucinda, +whom I did not love, whereas in the +past I had spent much time in mere arguing +with Helena, whom I did love.</p> + +<p>“I’m not sure that I’ve ever made it plain +enough to her, that’s true,” said I slowly. “But +if she gives me the chance, I’ll spend all my +life telling her that very thing. That, since +you ask me, is why we all are here—so that I +may tell Helena, and you, and all the world, +that very thing. I love her, very much.”</p> + +<p>“But suppose she does not love you?” demanded +Mrs. Daniver. “I’ll say frankly, I’ve +advised her against you all along. She ought +to marry a man of some station in the world.”</p> + +<p>“With money?”</p> + +<p>“You put it baldly, but—yes.”</p> + +<p>“Would that be enough—money?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No. That is not fair——”</p> + +<p>“—Only honor between us now.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +“It would go for to-day. Because, after all, +money means power, and all of us worship +power, you know—success.”</p> + +<p>“And is that success—to have money, and +then more money—and to go on, piling up +more money—to have more summer places, +and more yachts like this, and more city houses, +and more money, money, money—yes, yes, +that’s American, but is it all, is it right, is it +the real ambition for a man! And does that +bring a woman happiness?”</p> + +<p>“What would you do if you had your money +back?” asked Mrs. Daniver. “You had a fortune +from your father.”</p> + +<p>“What would I do?” I rejoined hotly. +“What I did do—settle every claim against his +honor as much as against his estate—judge his +honor by my own standards, and not his. Pay +my debts—pay all my debts. It’s independence, +madam, and not money that I want. It’s freedom, +Mrs. Daniver, that I want, and not money. +So far as it would be the usual money, buying +almost nothing that is worth owning, I give +you my solemn oath I don’t care enough for it +to work for it! So far as it would help me +be a man, help me to build my own character, +help me build manhood and character in my +country—yes, I’d like it for that. But if money +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +were the price of Helena herself, I’d not ask +for it. The man who would court a girl with +his money and not his manhood—the woman +who marries for money, or the man who does—what +use has God Almighty got for either +of them? It’s men and women and things +worth doing who make this world, Mrs. Daniver. +I love her, so much, so clearly, so wholly, +that I think it must be right. And since you’ve +asked me, I’ve taken my man’s chance, just to +get you two alone, where I could talk it over +with you both.”</p> + +<p>“It’s been talked over, Harry,” said she, +rather uncomfortably. “Why not let the poor +child alone? Has it occurred to you how terribly +hard this is for her?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. But she can end it easily. Tell me, +is she engaged to Davidson?”</p> + +<p>“What difference?”</p> + +<p>“None.”</p> + +<p>“Why ask, then?”</p> + +<p>“Tell me!”</p> + +<p>“Well then, no, not so far as I know.”</p> + +<p>“You are sorry?”</p> + +<p>“I had hope for it. It was all coming on so +handsomely. At Natchez he was—he was, +well, you know——”</p> + +<p>“Almost upon the point?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +“Quite so. I thought, I believed that between +there and——”</p> + +<p>“Say between there and Baton Rouge——”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes——”</p> + +<p>“He would come to the main point?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And he did not?”</p> + +<p>“You can best answer. It was at Natchez +that you and those ruffianly boys ran off with +Mr. Davidson’s boat!”</p> + +<p>“That’s all, your Honor,” I remarked. “Take +the witness, Mr. Davidson!”</p> + +<p>“But what right you have to cross-question +me, I don’t know!” commented Mrs. Daniver, +addressing a passing sea-gull, and pulling down +the corners of her mouth most forbiddingly.</p> + +<p>“My disused and forgotten art comes back +to me once in a while, my dear Mrs. Daniver,” +I answered exultantly. “Pray, do you notice +how beautiful all the world is this morning? +The sky is so wonderful, the sea so adorable, +don’t you see?”</p> + +<p>“I see that we are a long way from home. +Tell me, are these sharks here?”</p> + +<p>“Oodles,” said I, “and very large. No use +trying to swim away. And yonder coast is +inhabited only by hostile cannibals. Barataria itself, +over yonder, is to-day no more than a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +shrimp-fishing village, part Chinese, part Greek +and part Sicilian. The railway runs far to the +north, and the ship channel is far to the east. +No one comes here. It is days to Galveston, +westward, and between lies a maze of interlocking +channels, lakes and bayous, where boats +once hid and may hide again. Once we unship +our flag mast, and we shall lie so saucy and +close that behind a bank of rushes we never +would be seen. And we do not burn coal, and +so make no smoke. Here is my chosen hiding +ground. In short, madam, you are in my +power!”</p> + +<p>“But really, how far——”</p> + +<p>“Since you ask, I will answer. Yonder, to +the westward, a bayou comes into Côte Blanche. +Follow that bayou, eighty miles from here, +and you come to the house of my friend, +Edouard Manning, the kindest man in Louisiana, +which is to say much. I had planned to +have the wedding there.”</p> + +<p>“Your effrontery amazes me—I doubt your +sanity!” said Aunt Lucinda, horrified. “But +what good will all this do you?”</p> + +<p>She had a certain bravery all her own, after +all. Almost, I was on the point of telling her +the truth; which was that I had during the +long night resolved once more to offer my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +hand to Helena, and if she now refused me, to +accept my fate. I would torture her no more. +No, if now she were still resolute, it was my +purpose to sail up yonder bayou, to land at +the Manning plantation, and there to part forever +from Helena and all my friends. I knew +corners of the world far enough that none +might find me.</p> + +<p>But I did not tell Aunt Lucinda this. Instead, +I made no answer; and we both sat looking +out over the rippling gulf, silent for some +time. I noted now a faint haze on the horizon +inshore, like distant cloud-banks, not yet distinct +but advancing. Aunt Lucinda, it seemed, +was watching something else through the ship’s +glasses which she had picked up near by.</p> + +<p>“What is that, over yonder?” asked she—“it +looks like a wreck of some kind.”</p> + +<p>“It is a wreck—that of a lighthouse,” I told +her. “It is lying flat on its side, a poor attitude +for a lighthouse. The great tidal wave +of the gulf storm, four years ago, destroyed it. +We are now, to tell the truth, at the edge of +that district which causes the Weather Bureau +much uncertainty—a breeding ground of the +tropical cyclones that break between the Indies +and this coast.”</p> + +<p>“And you bring us here?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +“Only to pass to the inner channels, madam, +where we should be safer in case of storm. +To-night, we shall anchor in the lee of a long +island, where the lighthouse is still standing, in +its proper position, and where we shall be safe +as a church.”</p> + +<p>“Sharks! Storms! Shipwrecks!” moaned +she.</p> + +<p>—“And pirates,” added I gently, “and cannibals. +Yes, madam, your plight is serious, and +I know not what may come of it all—I wish +I did.”</p> + +<p>“Well, no good will come of it, one thing +sure,” said Aunt Lucinda, preparing to weep.</p> + +<p>And indeed, an instant later, my mournful +skipper seemed to bear her out. I saw Peterson +standing expectant, a little forward, now.</p> + +<p>“Well, Peterson?” I rose and went to him.</p> + +<p>“I beg pardon, sir, Mr. Harry,” said he +somewhat anxiously, “but we’ve bent her port +shaft on a cursed oyster reef.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Peterson. Suppose we run with +the starboard screw.”</p> + +<p>“And the intake’s clogged again with this +cursed fine sand we’ve picked up.”</p> + +<p>“After I warned Williams?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir. And that’s not the worst, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed? You must be happy, Peterson!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +“We can’t log over eight knots now, and it’s +sixty miles to our light back of the big key.”</p> + +<p>“Excellent, Peterson!”</p> + +<p>“And the glass is falling mighty fast.”</p> + +<p>“In that case, Peterson,” said I, “the best +thing you can do is to hold your course, and +the best thing I can do is to get ready for +lunch.”</p> + +<p>“The best thing either of us can do is to get +some sleep,” said he, “for we may not get +much to-night. She’ll break somewhere after sunset +to-night, very likely.”</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, “let us hope for the +worst.”</p> + +<p>All the same, I did not wholly like the look +of things, for I had seen these swift gulf +storms before. A sudden sinking of the heart +came over me. What if my madness, indeed, +should come to mean peril to her? Swiftly I +stepped back to the door of the ladies’ cabin, +where Mrs. Daniver now disappeared. “Helena!” +I cried.</p> + +<p>“Yes?” I heard her answer as she stepped +toward the little stair.</p> + +<p>“Did you say ‘Yes’?” I rejoined suddenly.</p> + +<p>“No, I did not! I only meant to ask what +you wanted.”</p> + +<p>“As though you did not know! I wanted +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +only to call you to get ready for luncheon. +One of the owners of this waistcoat has provided +a pompano, not to mention some excellent +endive. And the weather is fine, isn’t it?”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS SHIPWRECK</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T must be understood that our party on the +<i>Belle Helène</i> was divided into two, or +rather, indeed, three camps, each somewhat +sharply defined and each somewhat ignorant +of the other’s doings in detail. The combination +of either two against the other, in organized +mutiny, might very well prove successful, +wherefore it was my task to keep all apart by +virtue of the authority which I had myself +usurped. The midship’s cabin suite, of three +rooms, was occupied by myself and my two +bold young mates—when the latter were not +elsewhere engaged. We made what might be +called the ruling classes. Forward of our cabin, +and accessible only from the deck, was the +engine-room where Williams worked, and off +this were two bunks, well ventilated and very +comfortable, occupied by Williams and Peterson. +Forward of this, and also accessible only +from the deck, lay the dining saloon, with its +fixed table, its cupboards, dish racks and wine-room. +In her bows and below the saloon was +the cook’s gallery, a dumb-waiter running +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +between; and the sleeping quarters of John, the +cook, and Willy, the deck-hand, were in the +forecastle below. This left the two captives +all the after part of the ship pretty much to +themselves, and as the after-suite of cabins was +roomy and fitted with every modern nautical +luxury, they lacked neither freedom nor comfort, +so far as these may obtain on shipboard. +Obviously, I said little to the ship’s crew, except +to Peterson, and my two mates had orders +to keep to their own part of the ship, under my +eye.</p> + +<p>Thus, like ancient Gaul, divided into three +parts, we sailed on our wholly indefinite voyage; +and all I could do was to live from day +to day, or hour to hour. I was content, for +Helena was there. Indeed, I question if, these +last three years, her image had not been always +present in my consciousness; such are the +fevers of our unreasoning blood, such the power +of that madness known as love.</p> + +<p>But, thus divided as was our company, I had +none such excellent opportunity for often seeing +Helena, as might at first be supposed. She +and her aunt refused to join us at any meal in +the dining saloon; although, now and then, +they came for breakfast to what Auntie Lucinda +with scorn called the “second table”. It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +was not feasible for me, often, to do more than +call of a morning to inquire if all was well +with them; and conversation through a lead-glass +transom is not what one would call intimate. +Helena could bar her door if she liked +in more ways than one; and against the fences +that she raised against me one way or another, +what with headaches, whims or Aunt Lucinda, +I had now no chance to meet her alone save +as she herself might dictate. So that, after +all, though now I stood as commander of the +<i>Belle Helène</i> in place of yon varlet, Cal Davidson, +although I ate his ship’s stores, wore, indeed, +his waistcoats and his neckties when that +was humanly possible, I was his successor only +and not his equal. He could—nay, had done +so—meet Helena as he liked, at meals, on deck, +on a thousand errands, whereas I was helpless +to do so. He could talk with her all over the +ship, take her alone on deck of a moonlit night, +listen to her sing, gaze—oh, curse him!—on +the little curls on Helena’s neck—but no! I +could not endure that thought. The round +white neck, the white shoulders, the soft curves +beneath the peignoir’s careless irreverences—why, +it was an intolerable thought that any +man should raise eye or heart or thought to +Helena, save myself. So, this morning, after +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +that rare and unconventional meeting on the +after deck, one easily may see how much I +wished all Gaul were divided into but two parts, +and that the occupants of the reserved after +cabin would come to lunch in the saloon with +their captors, Black Bart, Jean Lafitte and Henri +L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>Now, ’tis an odd thing, but one of my superstitions, +that when we wish much and fervently +and cleanly for any certain thing, one day that +thing is ours. Some day, some time, some +hour or instant, our dear desire, our coveted +thing, our wish, comes and flutters and alights +at our side; if really we have deserved it and +have wished long and deeply and honestly and +purposefully. You ask proof? Well, then, +hardly had we three, Black Bart, Jean Lafitte +and Henri L’Olonnois, seated ourselves at table +for luncheon that day before I became sensible +of a faint shadow at the saloon stair. I saw a +trim boot and a substantial ankle which I knew +belonged to Aunt Lucinda; and then I looked +up and saw on the deck Helena also, stooped, +her clean-cut head, with its blown dark hair, +visible against the blue sky.</p> + +<p>“May I come in?” she asked gaily enough. +And I reached up next to her to hand her +down, and smooth down her skirt for her at +the rather awkward narrow stair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +“You are always invited,” said I, and perhaps +I flushed in my pleasure. “John,” I called +down the tube, “two more—the ladies.” And +I heard his calm “All lite.”</p> + +<p>My young gentlemen had risen, politely, but +Helena gently pushed them down into their +places. “Be seated here, ladies,” said I. “These +places are, as you see, always spread for you. +Your covers wait. And all the ship’s silver +shall see duty now. L’Olonnois, my hearty, +you and I shall serve, eh? I am, indeed, delighted—greatly +delighted—I shall not inquire, I +shall only hope.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” boomed the deep voice of Auntie +Lucinda, “we came because we did not like the +look of things.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure, things are not looking bully,” +I assented vaguely.</p> + +<p>“I mean the weather. It’s getting black, and +it’s colder. And after what you told me about +the storms, and that lighthouse being blown +down——”</p> + +<p>“My dear Mrs. Daniver,” said I, helping her +to her chair while L’Olonnois served his Auntie +Helena in like fashion, “you really must not +take one too seriously. That lighthouse fell +over of its own weight—the contractor’s work +was done shamefully.”</p> + +<p>“But you said it blew,” ventured Helena.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +“It blows, a little, now and then, to be sure, +but never very much, only enough to enable +the oyster boats and shrimpers to get in. How +could we have oysters without a sailing +breeze?”</p> + +<p>“It’s more than a breeze,” said Aunt Lucinda. +“My neuralgia tells me——”</p> + +<p>“It is fortunate that you honored us, my dear +Mrs. Daniver,” said I, “for I have here in the +cooler a bottle of ninety-three. I had an inspiration. +I knew you would come, for nothing in the +world could have pleased me so much.”</p> + +<p>I was looking at Helena, whose eyes were +cast down. I observed now that she was in +somewhat elegant morning costume, her bridge +coat of Vienna lace, caught with a wide bar +of plain gold, covering some soft and shimmering +under-bodice which fitted closely +enough to be formal. And I saw she had on +many rings, and that her throat sparkled under +a circlet of gems.</p> + +<p>She must have caught my glance of surprise, +for she said nervously, “You think we are +overplaying our return call? Well, the truth +is, we’re afraid.”</p> + +<p>“So then?”—and I bowed.</p> + +<p>“So then I fished out all my jewelry.”</p> + +<p>“We are honored.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +“Well, I didn’t know what might happen. +If one should be shipwrecked——” I caught +her frightened gaze out an open port, perfectly +aware myself of the swift weather change.</p> + +<p>“There is nothing like dressing the part of +the shipwrecked,” said I. “For myself, these +same flannels will do.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” said young L’Olonnois, “suppose +she does pitch a little—it ain’t any worse’n on +the <i>Mauretania</i> when we went across. I ain’t +scared, are you, John?”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied Jean Lafitte shyly. He was +almost overawed with the ladies. But I liked +the look of his eye now.</p> + +<p>“She’s not as big as the <i>Mauretania</i>,” said Helena, +fixing L’Olonnois’ collar for him.</p> + +<p>“I’m sure she’s going to roll horribly,” added +Aunt Lucinda. “And if I should be seasick, +with my neuralgia, I’m sure I don’t know what +I should do.”</p> + +<p>“<em>I</em> know!” remarked L’Olonnois; and Helena +promptly dropped her hand over his mouth.</p> + +<p>“Let us not think of storm and shipwreck,” +said I, “at least until they come. I want to ask +your attention to John’s imitation of Luigi’s +oysters <i>à la marinière</i>. The oysters are of our +own catching this morning. For, you must know, +the water hereabout is very shallow, and is full of +oysters.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +“You said full of sharks,” corrected Aunt +Lucinda.</p> + +<p>“Did I? I meant oysters.” And I helped +her to some from the dumb-waiter and uncorked +the very last bottle of the ninety-three left in +the case. “And as for this storm of which you +speak, ladies,” I added as I poured, “I would +there might come every day as ill a wind if +it would blow me as great a good as yourselves +for luncheon.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said L’Olonnois brightly, “you might +blow in once in a while an’ see us fellers. I +told Black Bart that captives——” but here I +kicked Jimmy under the table. Poor chap, +what with his Auntie Helena’s hand at one +extremity and my boot at the other, he was +strained in his conversation, and in disgust, +joined Jean Lafitte in complete silence and oysters.</p> + +<p>“Really,” and Helena raised her eyes, “isn’t +it growing colder?”</p> + +<p>“Jean, close the port behind Miss Emory,” +said I. It was plain enough to my mind that +a blue norther was breaking, with its swift +drop in temperature and its possibly high wind.</p> + +<p>“The table’s actin’ funny,” commented Jean +Lafitte presently. He had never been at sea +before.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Aunt Lucinda, with very much—too +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +much—dignity. “If you all will please +excuse me, I think I shall go back to the cabin. +Helena!”</p> + +<p>“Go with Mrs. Daniver at once, Jimmy,” +said I to L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>“Aye, aye, Sir!” saluted he joyously; and +added aside as he passed me, “Hope the old +girl’s going to be good an’ sick!”</p> + +<p>I could see Peterson standing near the saloon’s +door, and bethought me to send Jean +Lafitte up to aid him in making all shipshape. +We were beginning to roll; and I missed the +smooth thrust of both our propellors, although +now the engines were purring smoothly +enough. Thus by mere chance, I found myself +alone with Helena. I put out a hand to steady +her as she rose.</p> + +<p>“Is it really going to be bad?” she inquired +anxiously. “Auntie gets <em>so</em> sick.”</p> + +<p>“It will be rough, for three hours yet,” I +admitted. “She’s not so big as the <i>Mauretania</i>, +but as well built for her tonnage. You couldn’t +pound her apart, no matter what came—she’s +oak and cedar, through and through, and every +point——”</p> + +<p>“You’ve studied her well, since you—since +you came aboard?”</p> + +<p>—“Yes, yes, to be sure I have. And she’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +worth her name. Don’t you think it was +mighty fine of—of Mr. Davidson to name her +after you—the <i>Belle Helène</i>?”</p> + +<p>“He never did. If he had, why?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t ask such questions, with the glass +falling as it is,” I said, pulling up the racks to +restrain the dancing tumblers.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t joke!” she said. “Harry!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Helena,” said I.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid!”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. But we seem so little and +the sea so big. And it’s getting black, and the +fog is coming. Look—you can’t see the shore-line +any more now.”</p> + +<p>It was as she said. The swift bank of vapor +had blotted out the low-lying shores entirely. +We sailed now in a narrowing circle of mist. +I saw thin points of moisture on the port +lights. And now I began to close the ports.</p> + +<p>“There <em>is</em> danger!” she reiterated.</p> + +<p>“All horses can run away, all auto cars can +blow up, all boats can sink. But we have as +good charts and compasses as the <i>Mauretania</i>, and +in three hours——”</p> + +<p>“But much can happen in three hours.”</p> + +<p>“Much has happened in less time. It did +not take me so long as that to love you, Helena, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +and that I have not forgotten in more than +five years. Five years, Helena. And as to +shipwreck, what does one more matter? It is +you who have made shipwreck of a man’s life. +Take shame for that.”</p> + +<p>“Take shame yourself, to talk in this way to +me, when I am helpless, when I can’t get +away, when I’m troubled and frightened half +to death? Ah, fine of you to persecute a +girl!” She sobbed, choking a little, but her +head high. “Let me out, I’m going to Auntie +Lucinda. I hate you more and more. If I +were to drown, I’d not take aid from you.”</p> + +<p>“Do you mean that, Helena?” I asked, more +than the chill of the norther in my blood.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I mean it. You are a <em>coward</em>!”</p> + +<p>I stood for quite a time between her and +the companion stair, my hand still offering aid +as she swayed in the boat’s roll now. I was +thinking, and I was very sad.</p> + +<p>“Helena,” said I, “perhaps you have won. +That’s a hard word to take from man or +woman. If it is in any way true, you have +won and I have lost, and deserved to lose. But +now, since little else remains, let me arrange +matters as simply as I can. I’ll admit there’s +an element of risk in our situation—one screw +is out of commission, and one engine might be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +better. If we missed the channel west of the +shoals, we might go aground—I hope not. +Whether we do or not, I want to tell you—over +yonder, forty or fifty miles, is the channel +running inland, which was my objective +point all along. I know this coast in the dark, +like a book. Now, I promise you, I’ll take you +in there to friends of mine, people of your own +class, and no one shall suspect one jot of all +this, other than that we were driven out of +our course. And once there, you are free. You +never will see my face again. I will do this, +as a ship’s man, for you, and if need comes, +will give my life to keep you safe. It’s about +all a coward can do for you. Now go, and if +any time of need comes for me to call you, +you will be called. And you will be cared for +by the ship’s men. And because I am head of +the ship’s men, you will do as I say. But I +hope no need for this will come. Yonder is +our course, where she heads now, and soon +you will be free from me. You have wrecked +me. Now I am derelict, from this time on. +Good-by.”</p> + +<p>I heard footfalls above. “Mrs. Daniver’s +compliments to Captain Black Bart,” saluted +L’Olonnois, “an’ would he send my Auntie Helena +back, because she’s offle sick.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +“Take good care of your Auntie Helena, +Jimmy,” said I, “and help her aft along the +rail.”</p> + +<p>I followed up the companionway, and saw +her going slowly, head down, her coat of lace +blown wide; her hand at her throat, and sobbing +in what Jimmy and I both knew was fear +of the storm.</p> + +<p>“Have they got everything they need there, +Jimmy?” I asked, as he returned.</p> + +<p>“Sure. And the old girl’s going to have a +peach of a one this time—she can’t hardly rock +in a rockin’ chair ’thout gettin’ seasick. I +think it’s great, don’t you? Look at her buck +into ’em!”</p> + +<p>Jimmy and his friend shared this immunity +from <i>mal de mer</i>. I could see Jean now helping +haul down our burgee, and the deck boy, Willy, +in his hurried work about the boat. Williams, +I could not see. But Peterson was now calm +and much in his element, for a better skipper +than he never sailed a craft on the Great Lakes.</p> + +<p>“I think she’s going to blow great guns,” +said he, “and like enough the other engine’ll +pop any minute.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?” I answered, stepping to the wheel. +“In which case we go to Davy Jones about +when, Peterson?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +“We don’t go!” he rejoined. “She’s the +grandest little ship afloat, and not a thing’s +the matter with her.”</p> + +<p>“Can we make the channel and run inside +the long key below the Côte Blanche Bayou?”</p> + +<p>“Sure we can. You’d better get the covers +off the boats, and see the bottom plugs in and +some water and supplies shipped aboard—but +there’s not the slightest danger in the world +for <em>this</em> boat, let me tell you that, sir. I’ve +seen her perform before now, and there’s not +a storm can blow on this coast she won’t ride +through.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS SHIPWRECK OF OTHER SORT</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>FTER the fashion of these gulf storms, +this one tarried not in its coming, nor offered +any clemency when it had arrived. Where +but a half-hour since the heavens had been +fair, the sea rippling, suave and kind, now the +sky was not visible at all and the tumbling +waves about us rolled savagely as in a nature +wholly changed. The wind sang ominously +overhead, as with lift and plunge we drove on +into a bank of mist. A chill as of doom swiftly +had replaced the balm of the southern sky; +and forsooth, all the mercy of the world seemed +lost and gone.</p> + +<p>And as our craft, laboring, thrust forward +blindly into this reek, with naught of comfort +on any hand, nor even the dimmest ray of +hope visible from any fixed thing on ahead, in +like travail of going, in like groaning to the +very soul, the bark of my life now lay in the +welter, helpless, reft of storm and strife, blind, +counseled by no fixed ray ahead. I know not +what purpose remained in me, that, like the +ship which bore us, I still, dumbly and without +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +conscious purpose, forged onward to some +point fixed by reason or desire before reason +and desire had been engulfed by this final unkindness +of the world. For myself, I cared +little or none at all. The plunge of the boat, +the shriek of the wind, the wild magic and +mystery of it, would have comported not ill +with a strong man’s tastes even in hours more +happy, and now, especially, they jumped with +the wild protest of a soul eager for some outlet +of action or excitement. But for these others, +these women—this woman—these boys, all +brought into this danger by my own mad folly, +ah! when the thought of these arose, a swift +remorse caught me; and though for myself I +feared not at all, for these I feared.</p> + +<p>Needs must, therefore, use every cool skilled +resource that lay at hand. No time now for +broken hearts to ask attention, the ship must +be sailed. Crippled or not, what she had of +help for us must be got out of her, used, fostered, +nourished. All the art of the navigator +must be charged with this duty. We must +win through. And, as many a man who has +seen danger will testify, the great need brought +to us all a great calm and a steady precision in +that which needed doing.</p> + +<p>I saw Peterson at the wheel, wet to the skin, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +as now and again a seventh wave, slow, portentous, +deadly-deliberate, showed ahead of us, +advanced, reared and pounded down on us +with its tons of might. But he only shook the +brine from his eyes and held her up, waiting +for the slow pulse of our crippled engine to +come on.</p> + +<p>“Can’t keep my pipe lit!” he called to me, +as I stood beside him; and at last, Peterson, in +a real time of danger, seemed altogether happy +and altogether free of apprehension beyond +that regarding his pipe.</p> + +<p>At the first breaking of the storm I had, of +course, ordered all ports closed, and had sent +both my young companions to the ladies’ cabin +aft, as the driest part of the boat. Even there, +the water that sometimes fell upon our decks +as the great waves broke, poured aft and even +broke about the cabin, drenching everything +above deck. It was man’s work that was to +be done now, yet none could bear a hand in it +save the engineer and the steersman. I was, +therefore, ready sternly to reprove Jean Lafitte +when, presently, I saw him making the +perilous passage forward, clinging to the rail +and wet to the skin before he could reach the +forward deck. But he protested so earnestly +and seemed withal so fit and keen, that I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +relented and allowed him to take his place by us +at the wheel, showing him as well as I could, +on the chart, the course we were trying to hold—the +mouth of a long channel, six miles or +more, dredged by the government across a foot +of the bay and making through to deeper +and more sheltered waters beyond.</p> + +<p>“S’posin’ we don’t hit her, in this fog!” asked +Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“It is our business to do that,” was my reply. +“In an hour or so more we shall know. How +did you leave the ladies, Jean?”</p> + +<p>“Jimmy, he’s sicker’n anything,” was his reply, +“except the old lady, and she’s sicker’n +Jimmy! The young lady, Miss Emory, she’s +all right, an’ she’s holdin’ their heads. She +says she don’t get sick. Neither do I—ain’t +that funny? But gee, this is rougher’n any +waves ever was on our lake. What’re you +goin’ to do?”</p> + +<p>“Hold straight ahead, Jean,” I answered. +“Now, wouldn’t you better go back to the +others?”</p> + +<p>“Naw, I ain’t scared—much. I told Jimmy, +I did, any pirate ought to be ashamed to get +sick. But they’re all scared. So’m I, some,” +he added frankly.</p> + +<p>I might have made some confession of my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +own, had I liked, for I did not, in the least, +fancy the look of things; but after a time, I +compromised with sturdy Jean by sending him +below into the dining saloon, whence he could +look out through the glass front and see the +tumbling sea ahead. Through the glazed housing +I could see him standing, hands in pockets, +legs wide, gazing out in the simple confidence +that all was well, and enjoying the tumult and +excitement of it all in his boyish ignorance.</p> + +<p>“He don’t know!” grinned Peterson to me, +and I only nodded in silence.</p> + +<p>“Where are we, Peterson?” I asked, putting a +finger on the wet chart before us.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” replied the old man. “It +depends on the drift, which we can’t calculate. +Soundings mean nothing, for she’s shallow for +miles. If the fog would break, so we could +see the light—there ain’t any fog-buoy on that +channel mouth, and it’s murder that there ain’t. +It’s this d——d fog that makes it bad.”</p> + +<p>I looked at my watch. It was now going on +five o’clock, and in this light, it soon would be +night for us. Peterson caught the time, and +frowned. “Wish’t we was in,” said he. “No +use trying to anchor unless we must, anyhow—she’ll +ride mighty wet out here. Better buck +on into it.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +So we bucked on in, till five, till five-thirty, +till six, and all the boat’s lights revealed was +a yellow circle of fog that traveled with us. +Wet and chilled, we two stood at the wheel +together, in such hard conditions that no navigator +and no pilot could have done much more +than grope.</p> + +<p>“We must have missed her!” admitted the +old skipper at last. “I don’t fancy the open +gulf, and I don’t fancy piling her up on some +shore in here. What do you think we should +do, Mr. Harry?”</p> + +<p>“Listen!” said I, raising a hand.</p> + +<p>“There’s no bell-buoy,” said he.</p> + +<p>“No, but hark. Don’t you hear the birds—there’s +a million geese and swans and ducks +calling over yonder.”</p> + +<p>“Right, by George!” said he. “But where?”</p> + +<p>“They’d not be at sea, Peterson. They must +be in some fresh-water lake inside some key or +island. On the Long Key there’s such an +inland lake.”</p> + +<p>“It’s beyond the channel, maybe?” said he. +But he signaled Williams to go slow, and that +faithful unseen Cyclops, on whose precious engines +so much depended, obeyed and presently +put out a head at his hatch, quickly withdrawing +it as a white sea came inboard.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +“We’ll crawl on in,” said Peterson. “The +light can’t be a thousand miles from here. If +only there was a nigger man and a dinner bell +beside the light—that’s the trouble. And now—good +God! <em>There she goes!</em>”</p> + +<p>With a jar which shook the good boat to the +core, we felt the bottom come up from the +depths and smite us. Our headway ceased, +save for a sickening crunching crawl. The +waves piled clear across our port bow as we +swung. And so we hung, the gulf piling in +on us in our yellow rimmed world. And at +the lift and hollow of the sea we rose and +pounded sullenly down, in such fashion as +would have broken the back of any boat less +stanch than ours.</p> + +<p>Here, in an eye’s flash, was danger tangible +and real. I heard a shriek from the cabin aft, +and called out for them all to keep below and +keep the ports closed. Peterson had the power +off in an instant, and swung her head as best +he could with the dying headway; but it only +put her farther on the shoal.</p> + +<p>“It’s the Timbalier Shoals!” he screamed. +“Oh, d—— it all! We’ll lose her, now.” I +recalled that his concern seemed rather for his +boat than the lives she carried.</p> + +<p>Jean Lafitte came bounding up the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +companionway, his face pale, but ready for ship’s discipline. +“Come,” said I quickly, “help me +with the anchor.” A moment later, we sprung +the capstan clutch, and I heard the brief growl +of the anchor chain as the big hook ran free. +Glad enough I was to think of the extra size +it had. We eased her down and made fast +under Peterson’s orders now, and so swung +into the head of the sea, which mercilessly +lifted us and flung us down like a monkey seeking +to crack a cocoanut shell. Williams joined +us now, and Willie and John, pale as Jean Lafitte, +came up from the forecastle, all shouting +and jabbering. I ran aft as soon as might be, +and only pulled up at the cabin door to summon +such air of calm as I might. I rapped, +but followed in, not waiting. Helena met me, +pale, her eyes wide, her hair disheveled, but +none the less mistress of herself.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” she demanded. “What makes +it jolt?”</p> + +<p>“We’ve gone aground,” said I. “She does +pound a little, doesn’t she?”</p> + +<p>She looked out into the wild night, across +which the voices of the confused wild fowl came +like souls in torment.</p> + +<p>“This is terrible!” said she simply. “Are we +lost?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +“No,” said I. “Let us hear no such talk. Go +below, now, and keep quiet. We may pass the +night here, or we may conclude after a little +to go on ahead a little farther. We’ve just +dropped the anchor. The island’s just over +there a way.” I did not care to be too specific.</p> + +<p>“What is it, oh, what is it?” I heard the +faint voice of Mrs. Daniver. “Oh, this is awful. +I—am—going—to—die, going to <em>die</em>!” The agony +of <i>mal de mer</i> was hers now of full license, for +the choppy sea was sustained on the bosom of +a long ground swell, coming we knew not +whence.</p> + +<p>“Jimmy!” I called down. “Are you there?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Sir,” answered L’Olonnois bravely, from +his place on the floor. “I’m feeling pretty funny, +but I’ll be all right—maybe.”</p> + +<p>“Stay right where you are—and you also, +Miss Emory. I must go forward now, and just +came to tell you it’s all right. If there should +be any need, we’ll let you know. Now keep +down, and keep the door shut.”</p> + +<p>“I’m—going—to—<em>die</em>!” moaned Mrs. Daniver +as I left. Helena made no outcry, but that +horror possessed her I knew very well, for +every reason told us that our case was desperate. +The boat might start her seams or +break her back, any instant, now.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +I found the men trying to make soundings +all about us as best they could with boat hooks +and a spare spar. But it came to little.</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, “you’re ship’s master. +What are your orders?”</p> + +<p>“Unlash the boat covers,” said he. “Get +even the dingey ready. Williams, close your +hatch and bear a hand to swing the big boat +out in her davits. Set the bottom plugs in +well. And Mr. Harry, you and John, the Chink, +had better get some stores and a case or so of +bottled water aboard the long boat. Have you +got the slickers and rugs ready, and plenty of +clothes? We’ll just be ready if it happens. I +don’t know where that damned light or the +damned channel is, but the damned ducks maybe +know where some damned thing is. We’ll +run for them, if we can’t ride her out.”</p> + +<p>We all hurried now, Jean Lafitte at my heels, +silent and faithful as a dog, aiding me as I +piled blankets and coats and rugs from our +cabin into the ship’s boat, which swayed and +swung perilously at the davits. What with the +aid of John, the China boy, and Willy, the deck-hand, +we also got supplies aboard her, I scarce +knew what, except that there seemed abundance. +And then we stood waiting for what +might happen, helpless in the hands of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +offended elements, and silent all. I held Jean’s +hand in my own. He was loyal to his mate, +even now. “Jimmy’d be here,” he said. +“’Course he would, only he’s so awful sick. I +ain’t sick—yet, but I feel funny, someway.”</p> + +<p>Peterson stood looking ahead, but was anxious. +“She’s coming up stronger,” said he, +“and two points on the port quarter. We’re +going on harder all the time. Anchor’s dragging. +Afraid we’re going to lose her, Mr. +Harry.”</p> + +<p>“Hush!” said I, nodding to the boy. “And +turn on the search-light. It seems to me I hear +breakers in there.”</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” said the old man. “Hook on +the light’s battery, Williams, and let’s see what +we can see.”</p> + +<p>The strong beam, wavering from side to side, +plowed a furry path into the fog. It disclosed +at first only the succession of angry incoming +waves, each, as it passed, thudding us down +on the bar of shell and mud and slime. But +at last, off to starboard and well astern in our +new position, riding at anchor, we raised a +faint white line of broken water which seemed +a constant feature; and now and then caught +the low boom of the surf.</p> + +<p>“She ain’t a half mile, over yonder,” I heard +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +Willy, the deck-hand, say. “An’ we could almost +walk it if it wasn’t for the sea.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Williams, “we’d do fine in +there now, with them boats. When we hit +that white water——”</p> + +<p>“Shut up!” ordered Peterson. “Safe as a +church, here or there, you lubbers. Stand by +your tackle, and keep your chin. Mr. Harry, +tell the ladies just to wrap up a bit, because—well, +maybe, because——”</p> + +<p>“Call me when it is time, Peterson,” said I; +and moved aft, holding Jean Lafitte by the arm.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” said he, as he dropped, wet and out +of breath, into the cabin; and “Gee!” remarked +a very pale L’Olonnois in return, gamely as he +could. And Mrs. Daniver’s moans went rhythmic +with the pound of the keel on the shoal.</p> + +<p>“What shall we do?” asked Helena at last +calmly. “Auntie is very sick. I am beginning +to fear for her, it is such a bad attack. This +is as rough as I ever saw it on the Channel.”</p> + +<p>“There is no danger,” said I, “but Peterson +and I just thought that if she kept on pounding +in this way, it might be better to go +ashore.”</p> + +<p>I spoke lightly, but well enough I knew the +risk of trying to launch a boat in such a sea; +and what the surf might be, none could say. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +Ah, how I wished that my empty assurance +might be the truth. For I knew that, anyway +we looked, only danger stared back at us now, +on every hand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE TAKE TO THE BOATS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">I</span> LOOKED at the woman I loved, and self-reproach +was in my soul, as I saw a shudder +go across her form. She was pale, but +beyond a swift look at me made no sign connecting +me, either with the wreck or the rescue. +I think she had even then abandoned all +hope of safety; and in my own heart, such, +also, was the rising conviction which I concealed. +Under the inborn habit of self-preservation, +under the cultivated habit of the well +born, to show no fear and to use the resources +of a calm mind to the last in time of danger, +we stood now, at least, in some human equality. +And again I lied and said, “There is no danger,” +though I could see the white rollers and could +hear their roar on the shore.</p> + +<p>The night grew wilder. The great gulf +storm had not yet reached its climax, and none +could tell what pitch of fury that might mean. +The dull jar of the boat as she time and again +was flung down by the waves, the shiver and +creak and groan of the sturdy craft, told us +that the end might come at any instant, though +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +now the anchor held firm and our crawl on to +the shoal had ceased. All around us was water +only four or five feet deep, but water whose +waves were twice as high. Once the final +crash came, and it would be too late to launch +a boat, and all of us, overboard in that welter, +were gone.</p> + +<p>Silently, I stepped on deck once more, and +motioned to Willy, the deck-hand, to bring me +the life preservers. “Put them on,” I said to +Helena.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I can’t. I can’t!” moaned the older +woman. “I’m dying—let me alone.”</p> + +<p>“Stop this nonsense, madam,” said I sternly—knowing +that was the only way—“put it on +at once. You too, Miss Emory, and you, my +boys. Quick. Then throw on loose wraps—all +you can. It will be cold.”</p> + +<p>In spite of all my efforts to seem calm, the +air of panic ran swiftly. Mrs. Daniver awoke +to swift action as she tremblingly fastened the +belt about her. Pushing past me, she reached +the deck, and so mad was she that in all +likelihood she would have sprung overboard. +I caught at her, and though my clutch brought +away little more than a handful of false hair, +it seemed to restore her reason though it destroyed +her coiffure. “Enough of this!” I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +cried to her. “Take your place by the boat, +and do as you are told.” And I saw Helena +pass forward, also, as we all reached the deck, +herself pale as a wraith, but with no outcry and +no spoken word. So, at last, I ranged them all +near the boat that swung ready at the davits.</p> + +<p>“We can’t all get in that,” said Jean Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“No,” said I: and I did not like to look at +the tiny dingey which lay on the cabin-top, +squat and tub-like, or the small ducking skiff +that here on deck was half full of water from +the breaking seas.</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, “take charge of the big +boat here. Take Williams to run her motor +for you. And the ladies will go with you.”</p> + +<p>I turned to the two boys, and my heart +leaped in pride for them both; for when I motioned +to Jimmy to make ready for the large +boat, with the ladies, he stepped back, pale as +he was. “Not unless John goes, too,” said he. +And they stood side by side, simply and with +no outcry, their young faces grave.</p> + +<p>“He must go with us—Jimmy,” broke out +Helena yearningly: “and so must you.”</p> + +<p>“Shut up, Auntie,” exclaimed Jimmy most +irreverently. “Who’s a-runnin’ this boat, like +to know?” Which abashed his auntie very +much.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +“We’ll take this one,” said Jean Lafitte, and +already was tipping the duck boat. “It’ll carry +us three if it has to.” And I allowed him and +his mate to stand by, not daring to look at its +inadequate shell and again at the breaking +seas.</p> + +<p>That left the dingey for Willy and the cook. +I glanced at Willy. “Which would you rather +chance?” I asked him, “the dingey or the duck +boat?”</p> + +<p>“The dingey,” said he quickly,—and we both +knew the cork-like quality of this stubby craft.</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said I. “Call John, when the +word comes to go.”</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you going with us?” asked Helena +now, suddenly, approaching me. I took one +long look into her eyes, then, “Obey orders,” +was all I said, and pointed to the larger boat. +I said good-by to her then. And, in the swift +intuitive justice that comes to us in moments +of extremity, I passed sentence upon these +young boys and myself. Though they had sinned +in innocence, though I had sinned in love, +it had been our folly that had brought these +others into this peril, and our chance must be +the least. Peterson and Williams would be a +better team in the big boat than any other we +could afford. I saw Peterson step toward us, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +and divined what was in his mind. “I’m owner +of this boat, my man,” said I. “Go to your +duty. You’re needed in the big boat.”</p> + +<p>“I’m last to leave her,” whispered the old +man. “She’s my boat, and I’ve run her.”</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, taking him aside, “I’ll +buy us another boat. But there is no woman +on earth, nor ever will be, like that one yonder. +Save her. It is your first duty. I wanted +that for myself, but she thinks I’m a coward, +and I would be, if I arranged our crews any +other way than just as we are. Take your +boat through. We others will do the best we +can. And give the word for the boats when +you’re sure we can’t ride it out.”</p> + +<p>Silently, the old man touched his cap, and +giving me one look, he went to the bows of +his boat. The <i>Belle Helène</i>, lashed by the +storm, rolled and pulled at her cable, rose, fell +thuddingly. And at last, came a giant swell +that almost submerged us. I caught Helena to +the cabin-top to keep her drier from it, and the +two boys also sprang to a point of safety. Mrs. +Daniver, less agile, was caught by Peterson +and Williams and held to the rail, wetted thoroughly. +And by some freak of the wind, at +that instant came fully the roar of the surf. +We of the <i>Belle Helène</i> seemed very small.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +I looked now at Peterson. He raised his +little megaphone, which hung at his belt, and +shouted loud and clear, as though we could +not have heard him at this distance of ten +feet. “Get ready to lower away!” Williams +and the deck-hand sprang to the falls. “Get +the women in the boat, you, Williams,” called +the skipper, “and go in with them to steady +her when she floats. Take his place there, Mr. +Harry. Lively now!” And how we got the +two women into the swinging boat I hardly +knew.</p> + +<p>The old skipper cast one eye ahead as a big +wave rolled astern. “Now!” he shouted. +“Lower away, there!”</p> + +<p>The boat dropped into the cup of a sea, rose +level with the rail the next instant, and tossed +perilously. I saw the two women huddled in +the bottom of her, their eyes covered, saw Williams +climbing over them and easing her at the +bowline. Then, as we seized the next instant +of the rhythm, and hauled her alongside, Peterson +made a leap and went aboard her, and +Williams scrambled back, once more, across +the two huddled forms. I saw him wrench at +the engine crank, and heard the spitting chug +of the little motor. They fell off in the seaway, +Peterson holding her with an oar as he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +could till the screws caught. Then I saw her answer +the helm and they staggered off, passing +out of the beam of our search-light, so that it +seemed to me I had said good-by to Helena +forever.</p> + +<p>We who remained had no davits to aid us, +and must launch by hand. For a moment I +stood and made my plans. First, I called to +Willy, our deck-hand, who had the dingey +now astern, some fashion. “Are you ready?” +I demanded: but the next moment I heard his +call astern and knew that, monkey-like, he had +got her over and was aboard her somehow.</p> + +<p>“Now, boys,” said I, “come here and shake +hands with Black Bart.” They came, their +serious eyes turned up to me. And never has +deeper emotion seized me than as I felt their +young hands in mine. We said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Now, bear a hand there, you, Jean!” I +pulled open the gate of the rail, and ran out +the landing stage, on which the flat-bottomed +skiff sat. With an oar I pushed it across at +right angles as nearly as possible when she +cleared. “Quick! Get in, both of you,” I +called. I was holding the inboard end of the +plank under a wedged oar shaft, thrust below +the sill of the forward cabin door. They scrambled +out and in, Jean grasping the bight of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +painter that I handed him, and passing it over +the rail.</p> + +<p>“Now, look out,” I called, and dropped the +landing stage to meet the swell of the next +wave. They slid, tilted, righted, rose high—and +held. The next moment I sprang, fell into +the sea, was caught by the collar as my hand +grasped the cockpit coaming, and so I slid in, +somehow, over the end deck, and caught the +end of the painter from John’s hand and cast +her free.</p> + +<p>The drift carried us off at once, and the next +wave almost hid the hull of the <i>Belle Helène</i>. +I knew at once we were powerless, and that +our one hope lay in drifting ashore. There is +no worse sea boat than a low, flat ducking +boat, decked though she be, and of good coaming, +for she butts into and does not rise to a +sea. But now, I thanked my star, one thing +only was in our favor. We rolled like a log, +already half full of water, but we floated, because +in each end of our skiff was a big empty +tin air tank, put there in spite of the laughing +protest of the builder, who said no room was +left for decoys under the decks. Just now, +those tin cans were worth more than many +duck decoys.</p> + +<p>“Keep down!” I ordered. “And hold on!” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +The boys obeyed me. I could see their gaze +bent on me, as the source of their hope, their +reliance. Jimmy was now free from the first +violence of the seasickness, but I saw Jean’s hand +on his arm.</p> + +<p>“Gee!” I heard the latter mutter as the first +sea crossed under us. “Dat was a peach.” I +took heart myself, for we lived that one +through. “Bail!” I ordered, and they took +their cups to it, while I did all I could with +the long punt paddle to make some sort of +course. Now and then the blazing trail of the +<i>Belle Helène’s</i> search-light swung across as we +rolled, to leave us, the next instant, in blackness. +As the seas permitted, we could see her, +riding and rocking, sometimes, alight from +stern to stern and making a gallant fight for +her life, as were we all.</p> + +<p>So long as the rollers came in oily and black, +we did well, but where the top of one broke +under us, we sank deep into the white foam +that had no carrying power, and our cockpit +filled so that we all sat in water. Only the +tanks held us, log-like, and we bailed and paddled: +and after they saw we did not sink, my +hardy bullies, perhaps in the ignorance of youth +and boy’s confidence that a boy and water are +friends, began to shout aloud. We wallowed on.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +No sound came to us from either of the other +boats; and now, very quickly it seemed, we +came at the edge of the surf.</p> + +<p>“I’m touching bottom, boys,” I called, and +cast the long punt pole adrift as I took up the +short paddle I had held under my leg.</p> + +<p>Now we had under us two feet of water or +ten, as the waves might say, and any moment +we might roll over; but we wallowed in, rolling, +till I knew the supreme moment had come. +I waited, holding her head in well as I could +so unruly a hulk, and as a big roller came after +us, paddled as hard as I could. The wave +chased us, caught us, pushed us, carried us in. +There was a lift of our loggish bows, a blinding +crash of white water about us. Our boat was +overturned, but in some way, since the beach +was all sand and very gentle, the wave flattened +so that the back-tow did not pull us +down. In some way, I do not know how, I +found myself standing, and dragging Jimmy by +the hand. Jean already was ahead, and I +heard his shout and saw his hand as he stood, +knee-deep but safe. So we all made it ashore, +and our boat also, which now we hauled out of +the spume. And the long white row of breakers, +less dangerous than I had feared, came in, +white maned and bellowing.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +I could still see the rocking lights of the +yacht, and the shifting stroke of the search-light +on the sea, but I did not hear and see +aught else, at the time, and my heart sank.</p> + +<p>It was Jimmy whose ear first got the sound +which came in—the feverish phut-phut of the +motor skiff. Then the ray of the great light +swung and I saw the boat still outside the +breakers—nor could I tell then why we had +beaten her in. It seemed Peterson was hunting +for us others.</p> + +<p>“Stay back, boys!” I called to my companions. +“You might get thrown down by the +waves—keep back.” But now I was ready to +rush in to meet the long boat, whose keel I +knew would leave her to overturn if she caught +bottom.</p> + +<p>But Peterson knew about the keel as well +as any, and he caught what he thought was +water enough before he yelled to Williams to +drive her in. She sped in like an arrow; and +again the white wave reared high and broke +upon its prey. By then, I was in water to my +waist. I caught Helena out with one reach of +my arms, just as I saw Williams and Peterson +stagger in with Mrs. Daniver between them. +In some miraculous way we got beyond danger, +and met my pirates, dancing and shouting +a welcome to our desert isle. Their advent, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +thereon, gave the two womenfolk a fervent +wish to embrace, sob and weep extraordinarily. +I had said nothing to Helena and said nothing +now.</p> + +<p>“Where’s the dingey, Peterson?” I called, +as he came up, grinning.</p> + +<p>“Coming in,” said he; and forsooth that +water-rat, Willy, made a better landing of it +than any of us, and calmly helped us now to +haul the heavy motor skiff up the beach, a +few feet at a time as the waves thrust it forward.</p> + +<p>“Thank God!” I heard Helena exclaim. “Oh, +thank God! We’re safe, we’re all safe, after +all.”</p> + +<p>I looked at my little group for a time, all +soaked to the skin, all huddled now close together. +Peterson, Williams, Willy—all the +crew, yes. Auntie Lucinda and the woman +who had called me a coward—the two captives, +yes, Jean Lafitte and Henri L’Olonnois and myself, +Black Bart—all the ship’s owners. What +lacked? For a moment I could not tell why +I had the vague feeling that something or +some one was missing.</p> + +<p>“Willy,” said I at last, “where’s John, the +cook?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I don’t know,” said Willy. “Didn’t +he come with you?”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I RESCUE THE COOK</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“W</span>HAT’S that?” said Peterson sharply—“you +didn’t obey orders?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I thought he was in the other boat,” +explained Willy, hanging his head.</p> + +<p>“You’ll get your time,” said the old man +quietly, “soon as we get to the railroad—and +you’ll go home by rail.”</p> + +<p>“What are you trying to do, Mr. Harry?” +he demanded of me, a moment later. I was +looking at the long boat.</p> + +<p>“Well, he’s part of the boat’s company,” said +I, “and we’ve got to save him, Peterson.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that?” asked Helena now coming +up—and then, “Why, John, our cook, isn’t +here, is he?” She, too, looked at the long boat +and at the sea. “How horrible!” she said. “Horrible!”</p> + +<p>“What does he mean to do?” she demanded +now of Peterson in turn. The old man only +looked at her.</p> + +<p>“Surely, you don’t mean to go out there +again,” she said.</p> + +<p>I turned to them both, half cold with anger. +“Do you think I’d leave him out there to die, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +perhaps? It was my own fault, not to see him +in the boat.”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t,” reiterated Peterson. “It was +Willy’s fault—or mine.”</p> + +<p>“In either case it’s likely to be equally serious +for him. We can’t leave the poor devil +helpless, that way.”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Harry,” began Peterson again, “he’s +only a Chinaman.”</p> + +<p>“Take shame to yourself for that, Peterson,” +said I. “He’s a part of the boat’s company—a +good cook—yes, but more than a good +cook——”</p> + +<p>“Well, why didn’t he come up with the rest +of us?”</p> + +<p>“Because he was at his place of duty, below, +until ordered up,” said I.</p> + +<p>Peterson pondered for a moment. “That’s +right,” said he at length; “I’ll go out with you.”</p> + +<p>I felt Helena’s hand on my arm. “It’s awful +out there,” said she. But I only turned to look +at her in the half-darkness and shook off her +hand.</p> + +<p>“You can’t launch the big boat,” said Peterson. +“You’d only swamp her, if you tried.”</p> + +<p>“That may be,” said I, “but the real thing is +to try.”</p> + +<p>“We might wait till the wind lulls,” he argued.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +“Yes, and if the wind should change she +might drag her anchor and go out to sea. +Which boat is best to take, Peterson?”</p> + +<p>A strange feeling of calm came over me, an +odd feeling not easy to explain, that I was not +a young man of leisure, but some one else, one +of my ancestors of earlier days, used to encounters +with adversity or risk. Calmly and +much to my own surprise, I stood and estimated +the chances as though I had been used +to such things all my life.</p> + +<p>“Which is the best boat, Peterson?” I repeated. +“Hardly the duck boat, I think—and +you say not the big boat.”</p> + +<p>“The dingey is the safest,” replied Peterson. +“That little tub would ride better; but no man +could handle her out there.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said I; “she’ll get her second +wetting, anyhow. Lend a hand.”</p> + +<p>“She’ll carry us both,” commented the old +man, stepping to the side of the stubby little +craft.</p> + +<p>“But she’ll be lighter and ride easier with +but one,” was my reply. “A chip is dry on top +only as long as it’s a chip.”</p> + +<p>“Let me go along,” said Jean Lafitte, stepping +up at this time.</p> + +<p>“You’ll do nothing of the sort, my son,” said +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +I. “Go back to the ladies and make a fire, and +make a shelter,” said I. “I’ll be here again +before long.”</p> + +<p>The news of the new adventure now spread +among our little party. Mrs. Daniver began +sniffling. “Helena,” I heard her say, “this is +terrible.” But meantime I was pulling off my +sweater and fastening on a life belt. Nodding +to Peterson, we both picked up the dingey, and +when the next sea favored, made a swift run in +the endeavor to break through the surf.</p> + +<p>“Let go!” I cried to him, as the water +swirled about our waist. “Go back!” And so +I sprang in alone and left him.</p> + +<p>For the time I could make small headway, +indeed, had not time to get at the oars, but +pushing as I might with the first thing that +came to hand, I felt the bottom under me, felt +again the lift of the sea carry me out of touch. +Then an incoming wave carried me back almost +to the point whence I had started. In such +way as I could not explain, none the less at +length the little boat won through, no more +than half filled by the breaking comber. I +worked first as best I might, paddling, and so +keeping her off the best I could. Then when +I got the oars, the stubby yawing little tub +at first seemed scarce more than to hold her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +own. I pulled hard—hard as I could. Slowly, +the line of white breakers passed astern. After +that, saving my strength a trifle, I edged out, +now angling into the wind, now pulling full +into the teeth of the gale. Even my purpose +was almost forgotten in the intensity of the +task of merely keeping away from the surf. +Dully I pulled, reasoning no more than that +that was the thing for me to do.</p> + +<p>It had seemed a mile, that short half-mile +between the yacht and the beach. It seemed +a hundred miles now going back to the boat. +I did not dare ask myself how I could go +aboard if even I won across so far as the yacht. +It was enough that I did not slip backward to +the beach once more. Yawing and jibbing in +the wind which caught her stubby freeboard, +the little boat, none the less, held up under me, +and once she was bailed of the surf, rode fairly +dry in spite of all, being far more buoyant +than either of the other craft. Once in the +dark, I saw something thrust up beside me and +fancied it to be a stake, marking the channel +which pierced the key hereabout. This was +confirmed in my mind when, presently, as rain +began to fall and the fog lessened for the time, +I saw the blurred yellow lighthouse eye answering +the wavering search-light of the <i>Belle +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +Helène</i>, which swept from side to side across +the bay as she rolled heavily at her anchor. +In spite of the hard fight it had given me, I +was glad the wind still held inshore. I knew +the point of the little island lay not far beyond +the light. Once adrift beyond that, not the +<i>Belle Helène</i> herself would be safe, in this offshore +wind, but must be carried out into the +gulf beyond.</p> + +<p>Not reasoning much about this, however, +and content with mere pulling, I kept on until +at length I saw the nodding lights of the <i>Belle +Helène</i> lighting the gloom more definitely +about me. Presently, I made under her lee, so +that the dingey was more manageable, and at +last, I edged up almost to her rail, planning +how, perhaps, I might cast a line and so make +fast. But, first, I tried calling.</p> + +<p>“Ahoy, there below, John!” I called through +the dark. At first there came no answer, and +again I shouted. At this I saw the door of the +dining saloon pushed open, and John himself +thrust out his hand.</p> + +<p>“All litee,” said he, merely greeting me casually. +“You come?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I, with equal sang-froid. “You +makee quick jump now, John, s’pose I come +in.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +“All litee,” said he once more. I saw now +that he stood there, a book and a bundle in his +arm. Perhaps he had been reading to pass +the time!</p> + +<p>Be that as it may, I cautiously pulled the +dingey under the lee of the <i>Belle Helène</i>. +Timing his leap with a sagacity and agility +combined which I had not suspected of him, +my China boy made a leap, stumbled, righted +himself, got his balance and so placed his +bundle on the bottom of the boat and his book +upon the seat, where he covered it carefully +against the spray.</p> + +<p>“All litee,” said he once more. “I makee +pull now. You come this place.”</p> + +<p>I endeavored to emulate his Oriental calm. +“John,” said I, “I catchee plenty wind this +time.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, plenty wind,” said he.</p> + +<p>“You suppose we leave China boy?” I demanded.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, no!” he exclaimed with emphasis. +“I know you come back allee time bimeby, +one time.”</p> + +<p>“What were you doing, John?”</p> + +<p>“I leed plenty ’Melican book,” said he calmly. +“Now I makee pull.” To oblige him I +made way for him, and we crawled past each +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +other on the floor of the heaving dingey. He +took the oars and began pulling with an odd +chopping sort of a stroke, perhaps learned in +his youth on some sampan that rode the waters +of his native land; but for my own part, since +Fate seemed to be kind to me after all, I +trusted his skill, such as it was, and was willing +to rest for a time.</p> + +<p>“No velly bad,” said John judicially, after a +time. “Pretty soon come in.” No doubt he +saw the little fire, now beginning to light the +beach. At any rate, he headed straight in, +the seas following, reeling after us. They +have their own ways, these people of the East. +I fancy John had run surf before. At any rate, +I knew the water now was shallow and that, +perhaps, one could swim ashore if we were +overset. I trusted him to make the landing, +however, and he did it like a veteran. One +plunge through the ultimate white crest, and +we were carried up high on the beach, to meet +the shouts of my men and to feel their hands +grasp the gunwales of the sturdy little craft.</p> + +<p>“All litee,” remarked John amiably, and +started for the fire, such being his instinct, not +with the purpose of getting warm, but of cooking +something. And in half an hour he had a +cup of hot bouillon all around.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> +“It’s a commendable thing,” remarked Mrs. +Daniver, “that you, sir, should go to the rescue +of even a humble Chinaman. I find this bouillon +delicious.”</p> + +<p>“Have you quite recovered from your seasickness +by this time, Mrs. Daniver?” I asked +politely.</p> + +<p>“Seasickness?” She raised an eyebrow in +protest. “I never was seasick in my life—not +even in the roughest crossings of the Channel, +where others were quite helpless.”</p> + +<p>“It is fortunate to be immune,” said I. “People +tell me it is a terrible feeling—they even +think they are going to die.”</p> + +<p>Jean Lafitte, I found, had made quite a serviceable +shelter, throwing a tarpaulin over one +of the long boat’s oars. We pushed our fire +to the front of this, and after a time induced +the ladies to make themselves more comfortable. +Only with some protest did my hearty +pirates agree to share this shelter which made +our sole protection against the storm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE ARE CASTAWAYS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE rain came down dismally, and the chill +of the night was very considerable, as I +learned soon after ceasing my own exertions. +The men made some sort of shelter for themselves +by turning up the long boat and the +dingey on edge, crawling into the lee, and +thus finding a little protection. All but John, +my cook. That calm personage, every time I +turned, was at my elbow in the dark, standing +silent, waiting for I knew not what. For the +first time, I realized the virtue of his waterproof +silk shirt. He seemed not to mind the +rain, although he asked my consent to put his +bundle and his book under the shelter. I +stooped down at the firelight, curious to see +the title of his book. It was familiar—<i>The +Pirate’s Own Book</i>!</p> + +<p>“Where you catchee book, John?” I asked +him.</p> + +<p>“Litlee boy he give me; him ’Melican book. +I lead him some. Plenty good book.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I; “I see. That boy’ll make +pirates of us all, if we aren’t careful.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +“That book, him tellee what do, sposee bad +storm,” said John proudly. “I know.”</p> + +<p>I walked over to where Peterson lay, his +pipe now lighted by some magic all his own. +We now could see more plainly the furred and +yellow gleam of the lighthouse lamp. Peterson’s +concern, however, was all for the <i>Belle +Helène</i>.</p> + +<p>“I hate to think of her out there all by herself,” +said he.</p> + +<p>“So do I, Peterson. I hate also to think of all +that ninety-three we left out there.”</p> + +<p>We were standing near the edge of the ladies’ +shelter, and I heard Mrs. Daniver’s voice as she +put out her head at the edge of the tarpaulin.</p> + +<p>“I thought you said all the ninety-three was +gone,” said she with some interest, as it appeared +to me.</p> + +<p>“No, we only had the last bottle of that case +at luncheon, Mrs. Daniver,” said I. “There +are yet other cases out yonder.”</p> + +<p>“It’s a bad night for neuralgia,” said she +complainingly.</p> + +<p>“It is, madam. But I don’t think I’ll pull +out again. And I am rejoiced that you are not +troubled now with seasickness,—that you never +are.” Which last resulted in her dignified +silence.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +Through the night, there came continually +the clamoring of the wild fowl in the lagoon +back of us, and this seemed to make the boys +restless. It was Jean Lafitte, next, who poked +his head out from under the tarpaulin.</p> + +<p>“I’ve got the gun all right,” said he, “and a +lot of shells. In the morning we’ll go out and +get some of those ducks that are squawking.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Jean,” said I; “we’re in one of the best +ducking countries on this whole coast.”</p> + +<p>“That’s fine—we can live chiefly by huntin’ +and fishin’, like it says in the g’ographies.”</p> + +<p>“If the wind should shift,” said I, “we may +have to do that for quite a time. I don’t know +whether the lighthouse keeper has a boat or +not, and the channel lies between us and the +light—it makes out here straight to the Gulf. +But now, be quiet, my sons, and see if we +can’t all get some sleep. I’ll take care of the +fire.”</p> + +<p>I passed a little apart to hunt for some driftwood, +my shadow, John, following close at +hand. When I returned I found a muffled +figure standing at the feeble blaze. Helena +raised her eyes, grave and serious.</p> + +<p>“It was splendid,” said she in a low tone of +voice, addressing not so much myself as all the +world, it seemed to me.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> +“Get back in there and go to sleep,” said I. +And, quietly she obeyed, so far as I might tell.</p> + +<p>For my own part, I did not seek the shelter +of the other boat, but, wrapped in sweater and +slicker, stood in the rain, John at my side. +Once in a while we set out in the dark to find +more wood for the little fire. In some way +the long night wore on. Toward morning the +rain ceased. It seemed to me that the rocking +search-light of the <i>Belle Helène</i> made scarce +so wide an arc across the bay. The lighthouse +ray shone less furry and yellow through the +night. The wind began to lull, coming in gusts, +at times after some moments of calm. The +roll of the sea still came in, but sometimes I +almost fancied that the surf was bellowing not +so loud. And so at length, the dawn came, +softening the gloom, and I could hear the roar +of the great bodies of wild fowl rising as they +always do at dawn, the tumult of their wings +rivaling the heavy rhythm of the surf itself.</p> + +<p>The advancing calm of nature seemed to +quiet the senses of the sleepers, even in their +sleep. Gently making up the fire for the last +time, as the gray light began to come across +the beach, I wandered inland a little way in +search of the fresh water lagoon. Its edge +lay not more than two or three hundred yards +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +back of our bivouac. So, as best I might, I +bathed my face and hands, and regretted that +such things as soap and towels had been forgotten +with many other things. Not irremediable, +our plight; for now I could see the <i>Belle +Helène</i> still rolling at her anchor, uneasy, but +still afloat; and in the daylight, and with a lessening +sea, there would be no great difficulty +in boarding her as we liked.</p> + +<p>Presently the others of the party were all +afoot, standing stiffly, sluggishly, in the chill of +dawn; and such was the breakfast which my +boy John presently prepared for us, that I confess +I began to make comparisons not wholly +to his discredit. Now, for instance, said I to +myself, had it been Mrs. Daniver who had +been forgotten on board ship—but, of course, +that line of reasoning might not be followed +out. And as for Mrs. Daniver herself, it was +only just to say that she made a fair attempt +at comradeship, considering that she had retired +without any aid whatever for her neuralgia. +Helena seemed reticent. The men, as +usual, ate apart. I did not find myself loquacious. +Only my two young ruffians seemed full +of the enjoyment possible in such a situation.</p> + +<p>“Gee! ain’t this fine?” said L’Olonnois. “I +never did think we’d be really shipwrecked and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> +cast away on a desert island. This is just like +it is in the books.”</p> + +<p>“Can we go huntin’ now?” demanded Jean +Lafitte, his mouth still full of bacon. “And +will you come along? There must be millions +of them ducks and geese. I didn’t know there +was so many in all the world.”</p> + +<p>“You may go, both of you, Jean Lafitte,” +said I, “if you’ll be careful not to shoot yourselves. +As for me, I must go back once more +to the boat, I fancy.”</p> + +<p>Peterson and I now held a brief conference, +and presently, leaving the ladies in charge of +Willy and the cook, we two, with Williams to +run the motor, with some difficulty launched +the long boat and made off through a sea none +too amiable, to go aboard the <i>Belle Helène</i> +once more—which so short a time before I had +thought we never might do again.</p> + +<p>“This is easier than pulling out in the dingey,” +grinned Peterson, as we approached the +<i>Belle Helène</i>. “Confound that deck-hand, he +might have got you drowned! I’ll fire him, +sure!”</p> + +<p>“No,” said I; “I’ve been thinking that over. +There was a great deal of confusion, and after +all, he may have thought that we had John +with us. Besides, he’s only young, and he’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> +human. I’ll tell you what we’ll do, Peterson—I’ll +dock him a month’s wages, and I’ll send +his wages to his mother. Meantime, let him +carry the wood and water for a week.”</p> + +<p>We found it not difficult now to go aboard +the <i>Belle Helène</i>, for, in the lessening seaway, +she rolled not so evilly. Peterson sprang to +the deck as the bow of our boat rose alongside +on a wave, and made fast our line. When Williams +and I had followed, we took a general +inventory of the <i>Belle Helène</i>. All the deck +gear was gone, spare oars and spars, a canvas +or so, and some coils of rope. Beyond that, +there seemed no serious damage, unless the +hull had been injured by its pounding during +the night.</p> + +<p>“It’s a mud-bank here, I think, Mr. Harry,” +said Peterson. “She may have ripped some of +her copper on the oyster reefs, but she seems +to bed full length and maybe she’s not strained, +after all.”</p> + +<p>“There’s the line of channel guides,” said I, +pointing to a row of sticks driven into the mud +a couple of miles in length.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said the old man, “the channel’s not +more than a biscuit toss from here. We came +right across it—if it hadn’t been in the dark, +we’d have gone through into the lee of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> +island and been all right. Now as it is, we’re +all wrong.”</p> + +<p>“How do you mean?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“How’ll we get that anchor up?” grumbled +he. “If we start the engines and try to crawl +up by the capstan, we couldn’t pull her out of +the mud. If we put on a donkey engine we’d +snatch the bow out of here before we could +lift the hook. And until we do, how are we +going to move her? There’s the channel, but +it’s as far as ever. We can’t sweep her off, of +course, and we can’t pole her off.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Peterson,” said I, “let us, by all +means, hope for the worst.” I smiled, seeing +that he now was possessed of his normal gloom.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said he, “we went on at full tide, and +hard aground at that. This wind is blowing +all the water out of Côte Blanche. Of course, +if the wind should turn and drive in again, we +might move her, if we caught her at high tide +once more. Until that happens, I guess we’re +anchored here for sure.”</p> + +<p>“The glass is rising now, Peterson,” said I, +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, it may rise a little,” said he, “and +of course the storm’s gone by for the time. +But I don’t think there’s going to be any good +change of weather that’ll hold, very soon. But +now, Williams and I’ll go below and see if we +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +can start a pump. I expect she’s sprung a leak, +all right.”</p> + +<p>Shaking his head in much apprehension, the +old man made his way with Williams, first into +the engine-room. For my own part, I turned +toward my cabin door. All at once as I did +so it seemed to me I heard a sound. It came +again, a sort of a meek diffident sound, expectant +rather than complaining. And then I +heard an unmistakable scraping at the door. +Hastening, I flung it open. I was greeted with +a great whine of joy and trust, a shaggy form +leaped upon me, thrust its cold nose into my +face, gave me much greetings of whines, and +at length of a loud howl of joy.</p> + +<p>“Partial!” I cried, and caught him by the +paws as he put them on my shoulders and +rubbed his muzzle along my cheek, whimpering; +“Partial! Oh, my dear chap, I say now, +I’m glad to see you!”</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, I had forgotten Partial +these three days, other things being on my +mind. Once more our amateurishness in shipwreck +had nearly cost us a life. Partial, no +doubt, had meekly waited at his usual place +until ordered to come out with the rest. We +had closed the doors and port-holes when we +left the <i>Belle Helène</i>, and thus he had been +locked in.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> +I sat down on one of the bench lockers with +Partial’s head in my hand, and almost my eyes +became moist. “Partial,” said I, “let me confess +the truth to you. The woman had maddened +me. I forgot you—I did, and will own +it now. It was a grave fault, my friend. I +do not ask you to forgive me, and all I can do +is to promise you such amend as lies in my +power. From now on, I promise you, you shall +go with me to all the ends of the earth. My +people shall be your people, till death do us +part. Do you hear me, Partial?”</p> + +<p>He answered by springing up again and licking +my face and hands, whimpering excitedly, +glad that I had come at last. “Dear Partial,” +said I, “you’re no gladder than I am. And +what’s more, you’ve nothing to cost you penitence. +Come, we’ll go to the dining-room and +see whether there’s anything left to eat.”</p> + +<p>He followed me now along the rolling deck, +and happily I was able to get him some scraps +for his breakfast. Peterson heard me talking, +and thrust up a head above the engine-room +hatch. He was as crestfallen as myself when +I showed him that, once more, we had been +forgetful and had left a friend while busy in +saving ourselves.</p> + +<p>I went once more to my cabin—Peterson +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +having discovered, apparently to his great regret, +that so far as could be determined, we +had not started a seam or smashed a timber +anywhere. I found a small tent among other +of my sporting equipment and tossed this out +to go in the long boat’s cargo. Another fowling +piece and ammunition, my canvas hunting +coat and wading boots, followed. Even, I +caught down from a nail the only other pair of +trousers available in my wardrobe—for Davidson’s +vast midship section comported ill with +my own. I found my watch in these other +trousers, and putting a hand in a pocket, fished +out also my portemonnaie. It had certain bills +in it—I presume two or three thousand dollars +in all, and I thrust these into my pocket. At +the bottom of the little purse,—among collar +buttons and other hard objects,—I found a +little round white object, and once more bethought +me of my pearl which I had won on +the far northern river, as it seemed to me many +years before—the pearl which, as I have said, +was to be known as the <i>Belle Helène</i>. I preserved +it now.</p> + +<p>Peterson and Williams, meantime, were busy +in getting aboard a case or so of water—not +forgetting the ninety-three of which I reminded the +old man once more. Some additional stores of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +bacon and tea, and a case of eggs, were also +taken aboard. At length, with quite a little +cargo in the way of comforts, we embarked +once more and started for our rude encampment.</p> + +<p>“We may be here for a month,” said Peterson +gloomily, looking at the <i>Belle Helène</i>, now +rolling just a little, her keel fast full length in +the mud-bar. “I don’t think there’s ever going +to be any change of wind—it’ll blow steadily +this way for a week, anyhow.”</p> + +<p>“I presume, Peterson,” said I coolly, “that +you don’t see the sun breaking through the +clouds over there, at all. And I fancy that you +will not believe, either, that the sea is lulling +now. Very well, I don’t want to make you +unhappy, my friend.”</p> + +<p>I heard Williams chuckling as he stooped +over his engine. Thus, chugging on merrily +with the long oily roll of the sea under us, we +presently once more ran our surf, and this time +had small difficulty in winning through, for, +once we felt the ground under us, we simply +sprang overboard and waded in, dragging the +boat with us, waist-deep sometimes in the flood, +but on the whole quite safe.</p> + +<p>My two pirate mates came down to the +beach joyously, and helped us unload. It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +seemed that they had made something of a +hunt already, for with much pride Jean now +displayed to me certain birds, proof of his own +prowess with his shotgun.</p> + +<p>“Some of ’em’s good to eat,” said he. “Regular +greenheads, like we get up North.” I +looked at the string of birds, and saw that they +were mallards and teals, a couple of dozen at +least.</p> + +<p>“Fie, fie!” said I. “I fear you’ve been shooting +on the water.”</p> + +<p>“Sure I did! And here’s four things that I +don’t suppose are good to eat—they got kind +of snaky heads, and red-colored, too. Ain’t no +ducks good to eat that ain’t got green heads.”</p> + +<p>“Each man to his taste,” said I, “but if you +like, you may have the green heads, and I’ll +take these with the auburn locks.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! What are they?” answered he.</p> + +<p>“Only canvasbacks,” said I, “and good fat +ones, too. What luck have you, Jimmy, my +son?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I went along and helped carry things,” +said L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>“What’s that you’ve got on a string?” I +asked him.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that,” said he, flushing. “It ain’t nothing +but a little turtle. It had funny marks on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> +its back. I caught it in the grass over there +by the lake.”</p> + +<p>Something about Jimmy’s little turtle interested +me, and I picked it up in my hands.</p> + +<p>“For amateur sportsmen, gentlemen,” said I, +“you’re doing pretty well. Your funny little +turtle, Jimmy, is nothing but a diamond-back +terrapin. There are perhaps more of them on +this coast than anywhere else in the world to-day. +And Partial, here—that friend of ours +now leaping excitedly and joyously before +them, barking at this little turtle of Jimmy’s—will +perhaps be able to help you find some +more of them in the grass—the market hunters +here hunt them with dogs, as perhaps you did +not know.”</p> + +<p>“We got some oysters, Sir,” said Willy, coming +forward shyly and shamefacedly; and +showed me the cockpit of the duck boat pretty +well filled. The boy had, it seems, found a +reef of these in a brackish arm which made +inland, and dug them by the simple process of +stooping down below the surface of the water, +since he had no oyster tongs.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said I, “it looks as if we would fare +pretty well for lunch. John”—and I called +my China boy—“again I find renewed cause +for felicitations on your rescue.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> +John stood looking at me blankly.</p> + +<p>“You savee, John?” said I, showing him one +of the canvasbacks, and he remarked mildly, +“All litee.” If anything, his lunch was better +than his breakfast, and when I saw him take +Jimmy’s funny little turtle from him and examine +it with appraising eye, I felt fairly well +convinced that we should not suffer at the dinner +hour.</p> + +<p>But though a certain gaiety now came to +others of the party as we sat about our midday +meal, warm now and well fed, and although +the boys excitedly made plans about putting +up the tent and furnishing it and going into +camp for the winter, I could not share their +eagerness. There was one other reticent figure +at our fireside. Helena sat silent, the head of +Partial in her lap. I felt resentment that she +should steal from me even my dog. At last, +having nothing better to do, I picked up my +gun, and slipping on my coat, started down the +beach, telling the boys that I was going alone, +perhaps too far for them to follow, with the +purpose of making some sort of an exploration +of the island.</p> + +<p>Moody and depressed, not in the least well +satisfied with life, even with matters thus so +far more fortunate than we had so recently +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +had reason to expect, I walked along the hard +sand, sometimes looking at the long lines of +wild fowl streaming in above the fresh-water +lagoon, but in reality thinking but little of +these. I did not at first hear the light step +which came behind me on the sand.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS NO RAPPROCHEMENT WITH THE +FAIR CAPTIVE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“H</span>ARRY!” I heard her call, and turned +quickly. “Harry, wait!”</p> + +<p>She came hurrying up toward me. I felt +my color rise. Awkwardly, I stood waiting, +and did not greet her. I cast a quick glance +the other way down the beach. It would be a +hundred yards before the first bend of the +shore-line would carry us behind the tall rushes. +Meantime, we were in full sight of all.</p> + +<p>Partial, who had followed me when I whistled, +now greeted her more joyously than did +his master.</p> + +<p>“Yes?” said I dully; “I suppose you came +to take away my dog from me, didn’t you? +It was all that was left.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said she coloring. “I didn’t +know but what Partial might be hungry.”</p> + +<p>“It is I who am hungry, Helena,” said I. +“I have long been hungry—for a look, a word.”</p> + +<p>She did not smile, showed not any trace of +coquetry in her mien, but paced on with me +now down the beach. I suppose she knew +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +when we had turned the point of rushes, for +now she laid her hand on my rough canvas +sleeve. It must have cost her effort to do that.</p> + +<p>“Harry, what’s wrong with you?” said she +after a time, since I still remained moodily +staring ahead. I did not answer, would not +look at her for a time, but at length she +turned. She stood, I say, with her hand on +my arm, her chin raised fully, her serious eyes +fixed on me. The dark hair was blown all +about her face. She had on over her long +white sweater a loose silk waterproof of some +sort, which blew every way, but did not disturb +the lines of her tall figure, nor lessen the +pale red and white which the sea breeze had +stung into her cheeks. She did not smile, and +her eyes, I say, looked steadily and seriously +into mine.</p> + +<p>“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, frowning +slightly, as it seemed to me.</p> + +<p>“Everything in the world is wrong with me, +as you know very well,” said I. “Am I not +a poor man? Am I not an unsuccessful lover? +Am I not a failure under every test which you +can apply? Am I not a coward—did you not +tell me so yourself?”</p> + +<p>Her eyes grew damp slowly. “I didn’t mean +it,” said she.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> +“Then why did you say it?”</p> + +<p>“It was long before—that was before last +night, Harry. You forget.”</p> + +<p>“What if it was?” I demanded. “I was the +same man then that I was last night.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t mean it, Harry,” said she, her voice +low. Her hand was still on my arm. Her eye +now was cast down, the tip of her toe was +tracing a circle on the wet sand where we +stood.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t think,” said she, after a little while.</p> + +<p>“I presume not,” said I coldly. “Sometimes +women do not stop to think. You have not +stopped to think that there is a limit even to +what my love would stand, Helena. Now, +much as I love you—and I never loved you so +much as I do now—I’ll never again ask you +for what you can not give me. I’ve been +rubbed the wrong way all I can stand, and +I’ll not have it any more. I’ve brought you +here, yes, and I’m sorry enough for it. But +I’m going to fix all that now, soon as I can.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Harry?” she asked +quietly.</p> + +<p>“Yonder, across the bay,” said I, pointing, +“runs a channel. That’s the Chenière. I presume +the lighthouse boats come from in there. +Maybe there’ll be one down after the storm +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +in a day or so. He’ll take out a message, and +get it on some boat bound for Morgan City, +perhaps.”</p> + +<p>“And what then?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I shall send out any message you +like, beside my own message to the parents of +these boys of mine. And I’ll send a message, +too, to my friend, Manning.”</p> + +<p>She turned her eyes where I pointed once +more, this time seemingly northward across +the bay. “Yonder is still another channel,” +said I, “not twenty miles from where we stand. +It runs back to the live-oak islands where my +friend Manning has his plantation. If the +tide serves and we can get the yacht afloat, +it won’t take us long to get in there. Once +there, you are safe; and once there, I say good-by. +Judge for yourself whether or not this is +the last time.”</p> + +<p>“And when will that be, Harry?” she demanded, +still tracing some figure on the sand +with the toe of her little boot.</p> + +<p>“That, I have said, is something I can not +tell. But as soon as possible, rest assured.”</p> + +<p>She was silent now, confused, a little abashed, +a mood entirely new to her in my recollection +of her many moods. Her hand still lay +upon my coarse canvas sleeve as though she +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> +had forgotten it. I bent now and kissed it. +“Harry,” said she in a whisper, “don’t you +care for me any more?”</p> + +<p>“Go back to the camp, Helena,” said I; “you +know I do, but I’ve done enough for you, and +I’ll do no more. All a coward can do to keep +you safe I have done, but I’m no such coward +as to follow you around now and dangle at +your apron strings. It’s good-by once more. +What are you,” I demanded fiercely, once +more, “that you should walk over my soul +again and again? Hasn’t there got to be an +end to that sort of thing some time, and don’t +you think there is an end for me? Go back +and tell your aunt that you have won. And +much joy may you both have in your winning.”</p> + +<p>I kissed her hand, flung it off, turned and +went down the beach. She did not look about, +but presently as I saw, turned and went back +toward the camp, her head hanging. And, as +I had said to her, I never loved her so much +in all my life, though never was I so little disposed +to go one step in her pursuit.</p> + +<p>Partial sat, looking after her also, his heart +torn in the division between us, for he loved +us both.</p> + +<p>“Partial,” I called to him harshly, and he +came, his ears down and very unhappy. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +Silently, the dog at my heels, I strode on down +the beach, and so I saw her no more for some +time.</p> + +<p>I found for myself a driftwood log at the +edge of the sea-marsh, and here for a time I sat +down, moodily staring out across the bay, as +unhappy, I fancy, as man gets to be in this +world. I scarce know how long I sat here, in +the wind which blew salt across the bay, and +for some time, I paid no attention to the +clamoring fowl which passed and repassed not +far from my point.</p> + +<p>At length, a long harrow of great Canadian +geese passed so close to me that without much +thought about it, I raised the gun and fired. +I killed two birds, and as I picked them up I +found they were not a brace, but a pair. The +report of my gun started a clamoring of all +manner of fowl beyond the edge of reeds which +hid the reef. A cloud of ducks passed before +me, and slipping in the shells once more, I +fired right and left. Again I killed my brace, +and again when I picked them up they were +a pair. The head of one was green, the other +brown. “Male and female made He them!” +said I. “If I had not killed these birds, in the +spring they would have gone northward, to +the edge of the world in their own love-making, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> +thousands of miles from here.” I looked at +my quarry with remorse, and not caring to +shoot more, at length picked up the birds and +slowly started back to camp, not looking forward +with any too great pleasure, it may be +imagined, to further meetings with the woman +whom, of all the world, I most cared to meet.</p> + +<p>I found all the others of the party amiably +engaged in camp affairs. The tent now was +up, the fire was arranged in more practical +fashion, and John was busy with his pans. Lafitte, +ever resourceful and ever busy, was out +with Willy after more oysters. L’Olonnois, his +partner, seemed engaged in some sort of argument +with his Auntie Helena.</p> + +<p>“Jimmy, I can’t!” I heard her say. “There +isn’t any sugar.”</p> + +<p>“Aw!” said he, “there’s plenty of sugar, ain’t +there, John?” And that worthy smiled as he +pointed toward an open canister of that dainty.</p> + +<p>“But I haven’t any pan.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you have, too, got a pan. Here’s one +a-settin’ right here in front of you. Come on +now, Auntie. We’re goin’ to have duck and +terrapin and oysters and everything—all a fellow +would want, besides that, is just fudges.”</p> + +<p>Helena stood preoccupied and hesitant, hardly +hearing what he said, as I fancy. At once +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> +L’Olonnois’ attitude changed. Folding his arms, +he turned toward her sternly.</p> + +<p>“Woman!” said he, “are you not a captive +to our band? Then who gives orders here? +Either you make fudges, or your life’s blood +stains these sands!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, all right, Jimmy,” she said listlessly. +“I’ll make them, if you like.”</p> + +<p>“You’d better,” remarked that worthy sententiously. +“Of course,” he added, seeking to +mollify his victim, over whom he thus domineered, +“it ain’t just like it is back home on +the stove, but you’ll have to get used to that, +because we’re going to live here forever. And,” +he added, casting a glance of his stern blue +eyes upon her, “it is the part of the captive +maid ever to live happily with the chief of the +pirate band.”</p> + +<p>Whereupon Helena and Jimmy both looked +up and saw me standing, unwilling listener to +all that had been said. Helena moved away +and pretended to be busy with the material +for her confections.</p> + +<p>“Aw, shucks, Black Bart,” said Jimmy, turning +to me—“ain’t that just like a woman?—They +won’t never play the game.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH I FIND TWO ESTIMABLE FRIENDS, BUT +LOSE ONE BELOVED</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE weather now, moderating, after the +fashion of weather on this coast, as rapidly +as it had become inclement, we passed a +more comfortable night on our desert island. +No doubt the lighthouse tender knew of our +presence, for he easily could see our tent by +day and our fire by night, and he surely must +have seen our good ship riding at anchor under +his nose at the edge of the channel; but no +visit came from that official—for the very good +reason, as we later learned, that the storm +had stove in his boat at her mooring; so that +all he himself could do was to cross his Cajun +bosom and pray that his supply skiff might +come from across the bay. So, as much alone +as the Swiss family by name of Robinson—an +odd name for a Swiss family, it always seemed +to me—we remained on our desert island undisturbed, +the ladies now in the comfortable +tent, my hardy pirates under the tarpaulin, and +the rest of us as we liked or might, all in beds +of the sweet scented grasses which grew along +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +the lagoon where the great ranks of wild fowl +kept up their chatter day and night.</p> + +<p>It was a land of plenty, and any but a man +in my situation might well have been content +there for many days. Content was not in my +own soul. I was up by dawn and busy about +the boats, before any sign of life was visible +around the tent or the canvas shelter. But +since the sun rose warm, it yet was early when +we met at John’s breakfast fire. I felt myself +a shabby figure, for in my haste I had forgotten +my razors; and by now my clothing was +sadly soiled and stained, even the most famous +of the Davidson waistcoats being the worse +for the salt-water immersions it had known; +and my ancient flannels were corkscrewing +about my limbs. But as for Helena, young +and vital, she discarded her sweater for breakfast, +and appeared as she had before the shipwreck, +in lace bridge coat and wearing many +gems! L’Olonnois, with the intimacy of kin +and the admiration of youth—and with youth’s +lack of tact—saluted her now gaily. “Gee! +Auntie,” said he, at table on the sand, “togged +out that way, all them glitterin’ gems, you +shore look fit for a pirate’s bride!”</p> + +<p>Poor Helena! She blushed red to the hair; +and I fear I did no better myself. “Jimmy!” +reproved Aunt Lucinda.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +“Don’t call me ‘Jimmy’!” rejoined that hopeful. +“My name is L’Olonnois, the Scourge of +The Sea. Me an’ Jean Lafitte, we follow Black +Bart the Avenger, to the Spanish Main. +Auntie, pass me the bacon, please. I’m just about +starved.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Daniver, as was her custom, ate a very +substantial breakfast; Helena, almost none at +all; nor had I much taste for food. In some +way, our constraint insensibly extended to all +the party, much to L’Olonnois’ disgust. “It’s +<em>her</em> fault!” I overheard him say to his mate. +“Women can’t play no games. An’ we was +havin’ such a bully chance! Now, like’s not, +we won’t stay here longer’n it’ll take to get +things back to the boat again. I don’t want to +go back home—I’d rather be a pirate; an’ so’d +any fellow.”</p> + +<p>“Sure he would,” assented Jean. They did +not see me, behind the tent.</p> + +<p>“Somethin’s wrong,” began L’Olonnois, portentously.</p> + +<p>“What’d you guess?” queried Lafitte. “Looks +to me like it was somethin’ between him an’ +the fair captive.”</p> + +<p>“That’s just it—that’s just what I said! +Now, if Black Bart lets his whiskers grow, an’ +Auntie Helena wears them rings, ain’t it just +like in the book? Course it is! But here they +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> +go, don’t eat nothin’, don’t talk none to nobody.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what!” began Lafitte.</p> + +<p>“Uh-huh, what?” demanded L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>“A great wrong has been did our brave +leader by yon heartless jade; that’s what!”</p> + +<p>“You betcher life they has. He’s on the +square, an’ look what he done for us—look +how he managed things all the way down to +here. Anybody else couldn’t have got away +with this. Anybody else’d never a’ went out +there last night after John, just a Chink, thataway. +An’ her!”</p> + +<p>Jimmy’s disapproval of his auntie, as thus +expressed, was extreme. I was now about to +step away, but feared detection, so unwillingly +heard on.</p> + +<p>“But he can’t see no one else but yon fickle +jade!” commented Jean Lafitte, “unworthy as +she is of a bold chief’s regard!”</p> + +<p>“Nope. That’s what’s goin’ to make all the +trouble. I’ll tell you what!”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“We’ll have to fix it up, somehow.”</p> + +<p>“How’d you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Why, reason it out with ’em both.”</p> + +<p>Jean apparently shook his head, or had some +look of dubiousness, for L’Olonnois went on.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> +“We <em>gotta</em> do it, somehow. If we don’t, we’ll +about have to go back home; an’ who wants to +go back home from a good old desert island like +this here. <em>So</em> now——”</p> + +<p>“Uh, huh?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I’ll tell you, now. You see, I got +some pull with her—the fair captive. She +used to lick me, but she don’t dast to try it on +here on a desert island: so I got some pull. +An’ like enough you c’d talk it over with Black +Bart.”</p> + +<p>“Nuh—uh! I don’t like to.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t. He’s all right.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but we got to get ’em <em>together</em>!”</p> + +<p>“Shore. But, my idea, he’s hard to <em>get</em> together +if he gets a notion he ain’t had a square +deal nohow, someways.”</p> + +<p>“Well, he ain’t. So that makes my part the +hardest. But you just go to him, and tell him +not to hurry, because you are informed the fair +captive is goin’ to relent, pretty soon, if we +just don’t get in too big a hurry and run away +from a place like this—where the duck shootin’ +is immense!”</p> + +<p>“But kin you work <em>her</em>, Jimmy?”</p> + +<p>“Well, I dunno. She’s pretty set, if she +thinks she ain’t had a square deal, too.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> +“Well now,” argued Lafitte, “if that’s the +way they both feel, either they’re both wrong +an’ ought to shake hands, or else one of ’em’s +wrong, and they either ought to get together +an’ find out which it was, or else they ought +to leave it to some one else to say which one +<em>was</em> wrong. Ain’t that so?”</p> + +<p>“O’ course it’s so. So now, thing fer us +fellows to do, is just to put it before ’em +plain, an’ get ’em both to leave it to us two +fellers what’s right fer ’em both to do. Now, +<em>I</em> think they’d ought to get married, both of +’em—I mean to each other, you know. Folks +<em>does</em> get married.”</p> + +<p>“Black Bart would,” said Jean Lafitte. “I’ll +bet anything. The fair captive, she’s a heartless +jade, but I seen Black Bart lookin’ at her, +an’——”</p> + +<p>“An’ I seen her lookin’ at him—leastways a +picture—an’ says she, ‘Jimmy——’”</p> + +<p>“Jimmy!” It was I, myself, red and angry, +who now broke from my unwilling eavesdropping.</p> + +<p>The two boys turned to me innocently. I +found it difficult to say anything at all, and +wisest to say nothing. “I was just going to +ask if you two wouldn’t like to take the guns +and go out after some more ducks—especially +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +the kind with red heads and flat noses, such as +we had yesterday. And I’ll lend you Partial, +so you can try for some more of those funny +little turtles. I’ll have to go out to the ship, +and also over to the lighthouse, before long. +The tide will turn, perhaps, and at least the +wind is offshore from the island now.”</p> + +<p>“Sure, we’ll go.” Jean spoke for both at +once.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then. And be careful. And you’d—you’d +better leave your auntie and her +auntie alone, Jimmy—they’ll want to sleep.”</p> + +<p>“You didn’t hear us sayin’ nothin’, did you, +Black Bart?” asked L’Olonnois, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>“By Jove! I believe that’s a boat beating +down the bay,” said I. “Sail ho!” And so +eager were they that they forgot my omission +of direct reply.</p> + +<p>“It’s very likely only the lighthouse supply +boat coming in,” said I. “I’ll find out over +there. Better run along, or the morning flight +of the birds will be over.” So they ran along.</p> + +<p>As for myself, I called Peterson and Williams +for another visit to our disabled ship, which +now lay on a level keel, white and glistening, +rocking gently in the bright wind. I left word +for the ladies that we might not be back for +luncheon.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> +We found that the piling waters of Côte +Blanche, erstwhile blown out to sea, were now +slowly settling back again after the offshore +storm. The <i>Belle Helène</i> had risen from her +bed in the mud now and rode free. Our +soundings showed us that it would be easy +now to break out the anchor and reach the +channel, just ahead. So, finding no leak of consequence, +and the beloved engines not the +worse for wear, Williams went below to get +up some power, while Peterson took the wheel +and I went forward to the capstan.</p> + +<p>The donkey winch soon began its work, and +I felt the great anchor at length break away +and come apeak. The current of the air swung +us before we had all made fast; and as I +sounded with a long bow pike, I presently +called out to Peterson, “No bottom!” He nodded; +and now, slowly, we took the channel and +moved on in opposite the light. We could see +the white-capped gulf rolling beyond.</p> + +<p>“Water there!” said Peterson. “We can go +on through, come around in the Morrison cut-off, +and so make the end of the Manning channel +to the mainland. But I wish we had a +local pilot.”</p> + +<p>I nodded. “Drop her in alongside this fellow’s +wharf,” I added. “The ladies have sent +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> +some letters—to go out by the tender’s boat, +yonder—I suppose he’ll be going back to-day.”</p> + +<p>“Like enough,” said Peterson; and so gently +we moved on up the dredged channel, and at +last made fast at the tumble-down wharf of +the lighthouse; courteously waiting for the +little craft of the tender to make its landing.</p> + +<p>We found the mooring none too good, what +with the storm’s work at the wharf, and as we +shifted our lines a time or two, the gaping, +jeans-clad Cajun who had come in with mail +and supplies passed in to the lighthouse ahead +of us; and I wonder his head did not twist +quite off its neck, for though he walked forward, +he ever looked behind him.</p> + +<p>When at length we two, Peterson and myself, +passed up the rickety walk to the equally +rickety gallery at the foot of the light, we +found two very badly frightened men instead +of a single curious one. The keeper in sooth +had in hand a muzzle-loading shotgun of such +extreme age, connected with such extreme +length of barrel, as might have led one to suspect +it had grown an inch or so annually for +all of many decades. He was too much frightened +to make active resistance, however, and +only warned us away, himself, now, a pale +saffron in color.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> +“Keep hout!” he commanded. “No, you’ll +didn’t!”</p> + +<p>“We’ll didn’t what, my friend?” began I +mildly. “Don’t you like my looks? Not that +I blame you if you do not. But has the boat +brought down any milk or eggs that you can +spare?”</p> + +<p>“No milluk—no haig!” muttered the light +tender; and they would have closed the door.</p> + +<p>“Come, come now, my friends!” I rejoined +testily. “Suppose you haven’t, you can at least +be civil. I want to talk with you a minute. +This is the power yacht <i>Belle Helène</i>, of Mackinaw, +cruising on the Gulf. We went aground +in the storm; and all we want now is to send +out a little mail by you to Morgan City, or +wherever you go; and to pass the time of day +with you, as friends should. What’s wrong—do +you think us a government revenue boat, +and are you smuggling stuff from Cuba through +the light here?”</p> + +<p>“We no make hany smug’,” replied the +keeper. “But we know you, who you been!”</p> + +<p>He smote now upon an open newspaper, +whose wrapper still lay on the floor. I glanced, +and this time I saw a half-page cut of the +<i>Belle Helène</i> herself, together with portraits of +myself, Mrs. Daniver, Miss Emory and two +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +wholly imaginary and fearsome boys who very +likely were made up from newspaper portraits +of the James Brothers! Moreover, my hasty +glance caught sight of a line in large letters, +reading:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><span class="smcap">Ten Thousand Dollars Reward!</span></p> +</div> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I calmly, handing him the +paper, “they seem to be after us, and to value +us rather high.”</p> + +<p>He glanced, his eyes eager; but Peterson, +while a professional doubter, was personally a +man of whose loyalty and whose courage I, +myself, had not the slightest doubt.</p> + +<p>“Let ’em come!” said he. “We’re on our +own way and about our own business; and outside +the three mile zone, let ’em follow us on +the high seas if they like. She’s sound as a +bell, Mr. Harry, and once we get her docked +and her port shaft straight, there’s nothing can +touch her on the Gulf. Let ’em come.”</p> + +<p>“But we can’t dock here, my good Peterson.”</p> + +<p>“Well, we can beat ’em with one engine and +one screw. Besides, what have we done?”</p> + +<p>“Haint you was ’hrobber, han ron hoff with +those sheep?” demanded the keeper excitedly.</p> + +<p>“No, we are not ship thieves but gentlemen, +my friend,” I answered, suddenly catching at +his long gun and setting it behind me. “You +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> +might let that go off,” I explained. At which +he went yellower than ever, a thing I had +thought impossible.</p> + +<p>“Now, look here,” said I. “Suppose we are +robbers, pirates, what you like, and suppose a +price is put on our heads—a price which means +a jolly nice libel suit for each paper printing +it, by the way, or a jolly nice apology—none +the less, we are a strong band and without +fear either of the law or of you. Here you +are alone, and not a sail is in sight. If any +boat did come here, we could—well, we could +blow her out of the water, couldn’t we, Peterson? +We could blow you out of the water, +too, couldn’t we, we and these ruffians of our +crew?”—and I pointed at the two low-browed +pictures of Lafitte and L’Olonnois.</p> + +<p>A shudder was my only answer. I think the +two portraits of my young bullies did the business.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then,” I resumed, “it is plain, +Messieurs, that there is many a slip between +the reward and the pocket, <i>voyez vous</i>? <i>Bien!</i> +But here—” and I thrust a hand into my pocket—“is +a reward much closer home, and far easier to +attain.”</p> + +<p>Their eyes bulged as they saw two or three +thousand dollars in big bills smoothed out.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> +“<i>Ecoutez, Messieurs!</i>” said I. “Behold here +not enemies, but men of like mind. I speak of +men who live by the sea, men of the old home +of Jean Lafitte, that great merchant, that bold +soldier, who did so much to save his country +at the Battle. Even now he has thousands of +friends and hundreds of relatives in this land. +You yourself, I doubt not, Messieurs, are distant +cousins of Jean Lafitte? <i>N’est-ce pas?</i>”</p> + +<p>They crossed themselves, but murmured “<i>Ba-oui!</i>” +“Est ees the trut’! How did Monsieur +know?” asked the tender.</p> + +<p>“I know many things. I know that any +cousin descended from those brave days loves +the sea and its ways more than he loves the +law. And if money has come easy—as this +did—what harm if a cousin should take the +price of a rat-skin or two and carry out a letter +or so to the railway, and keep a close mouth +about it as well? To the good old days, and +Messieurs, my friends!” I had seen the neck +of a flask in Peterson’s pocket, and now I took +it forth, unscrewed the top, and passed it, with +two bills of one hundred dollars each.</p> + +<p>They poured, grinned. I stood, waiting for +their slow brains to act, but there was only a +foregone answer. The keeper drank first, as +ranking his tender; the other followed; and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> +they handed the flask—not the bills—back to +Peterson and me.</p> + +<p>“<i>Merci, mes amis!</i>” said I. “And I drink to +Jean Lafitte and the old days! Perhaps, you +may buy a mass for your cousin’s soul?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Ah non!</i>” answered the keeper. “Hees soul +she’s hout of <i>Purgatoire</i> long hago eef she’ll goin’ +get hout. Me, I buy me some net for s’rimp.”</p> + +<p>“An’ me, two harpent more lan’ for my +farm,” quoth the tender.</p> + +<p>“Alas! poor Jean!” said I. “But he was so +virtuous a man that he needs no masses after +a hundred years, perhaps. As you like. You +will take the letters; and this for the telegraph?”</p> + +<p>“Certain’! I’ll took it those,” answered the +tender. “You’ll stayed for dish coffee, yass?” +inquired the keeper, with Cajun hospitality.</p> + +<p>“No, I fear it is not possible, thank you,” I replied. +“We must be going soon.”</p> + +<p>“An’ where you’ll goin’, Monsieur?”</p> + +<p>“Around the island, up the channel, up the +old oyster-boat channel of Monsieur Edouard. +The letters are some of them for Monsieur +Edouard himself. And you know well, <i>mes +amis</i>, that once we lie at the wharf of Monsieur +Edouard, not the government even of the state +will touch us yonder?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +“My faith, <em>non!</em> I should say it—certain’ not! +No man he’ll mawnkey wit’ Monsieur Edouard, +heem! You’ll was know him, Monsieur?”</p> + +<p>“We went to school together. We smoked +the same pipe.”</p> + +<p>“My faith! You’ll know Monsieur Edouard!” +The keeper shook my hand. “H’I’ll +was work for Monsieur Edouard manny tam +hon hees boat, hon hees plantation, hon hees +’ouse. When I’ll want some leetle money, +s’pose those hrat he’ll wasn’t been prime yet, +hall H’I’ll need was to go non Monsieur Edouard, +hask for those leetle monny. He’ll +han’ it on me, yass, heem, ten dollar, jus’ like +as heasy Monsieur has gave it me hondred dollar +now, yas, heem!”</p> + +<p>“Yes? Well, I know that a cousin of Jean +Lafitte—who no doubt has dug for treasure all +over the dooryard of Monsieur Edouard——”</p> + +<p>“But not behin’ the smoke-house—nevair on +dose place yet, I’ll swear it!”</p> + +<p>“—Very well, suppose you have not yet included +the smoke-house of Monsieur Edouard, +at least you are his friend. And what Acadian +lives who is not a friend of the ladies?”</p> + +<p>“Certain’, Monsieur.”</p> + +<p>“Very well again. What you see in the paper +is all false. The two ladies whose pictures +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> +you see here, and here, are yonder at our camp. +You shall come and see that they are well and +happy, both of them. Moreover, if you like +another fifty for the mass for Jean Lafitte’s +soul, you, yourself, my friend, shall pilot us +into the channel of Monsieur Edouard. We’ll +tow your boat behind us across the bay. Is it +not?”</p> + +<p>“Certain’! <i>oui!</i>” answered the tender. “But +you’ll had leetle dish coffee quite plain?” once +more demanded the lonesome keeper; and for +sake of his hospitable soul we now said yes; +and very good coffee it was, too: and the better +since I knew it meant we now were friends. +Ah! pirate blood is far thicker than any water +you may find.</p> + +<p>“But if we take you on as pilot, my friend,” +said I to the pilot as at length we arose, “how +shall we get out our letters after all?”</p> + +<p>“Thass hall right,” replied he, “my cousin, +Richard Barrière—she’s cousin of Jean Lafitte +too, heem—she’ll was my partner on the s’rimp, +an’ she’ll was come hon the light, here, heem, +to-mor’, yas, heem.”</p> + +<p>“And would you give the letters to Mr. Richard +Barrière to-morrow?” I inquired of the +lighthouse keeper.</p> + +<p>“<i>Oui, oui</i>, certain’, <i>assurement</i>, wit’ <i>plaisir, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +Monsieur</i>,” he replied. So I handed him the little +packet.</p> + +<p>It chanced that my eye caught sight of one +of the two letters Mrs. Daniver had handed +me. The address was not in Mrs. Daniver’s +handwriting, but one that I knew very well. +And the letter, in this handwriting that I knew +very well, was addressed to Calvin Horace +Davidson, Esquire, The Boston Club, New Orleans, +Louisiana: all written out in full in Helena’s +own scrupulous fashion.</p> + +<p>I gave the letter over to the messenger, but +for a time I stood silent, thinking. I knew now +very well what that letter contained. But yesterday, +Helena Emory had finally decided, there +on the beach, alone with me, the salt air on +her cheek, the salt tears in her eyes. She had +gone far as woman might to tell me that she +was grieved over a hasty word—she had given +me a chance, my first chance, my only chance, +my last chance. And, I, pig-headed fool, had +slighted her at the very moment of moments +of all my life—I who had prided myself on +my “psychology”—I who had thought myself +wise—I had allowed that woman to go away +with her head drooping when at last she—oh, +I saw it all plainly enough now! And now +indeed small psychology and small wit were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +requisite to know the whole process of a +woman’s soul, thus chilled. She had been hesitant, +had been a little resentful of this runaway +situation, had not liked my domineering ways; +but at last she had relented and had asked my +pardon. Then I had spurned her. And then +her mind swung to the other man. She had +not yet given that man his answer, but when +I chilled her, rejected her timid little desire to +“make up” with me—why, then, her mind was +made up for that other man at once. She had +written his answer. And now—oh! fiendlike +cruelty of woman’s heart—she had chosen me +as her messenger to carry out that word which +would cost me herself forever! She had done +that exquisitely well, as she did everything, not +even advising me that I was to be her errand +boy on such an errand, trusting me to find out +by accident, as I had, that I was to be my own +executioner, was to spring my own guillotine. +She knew that, none the less, though I understood +what the letter meant thus addressed, I +sacredly must execute her silent trust. Oh! +Helena, yours was indeed an exquisite revenge +for that one hour of a dour man’s hurt pride.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH WE FOLD OUR TENTS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">B</span>Y consent of the lighthouse keeper, we left +the <i>Belle Helène</i> moored at the wharf in +the channel, with Williams in charge, while +Peterson and I, towing the tender’s sailing +skiff, its piratical lateen sail lowered, started +back for our encampment in our long boat. +It was only a half mile or so alongshore around +the head of the island, although we had to keep +out a bit to avoid going aground on the flats +where the <i>Belle Helène</i> had come to grief—and +had, moreover, to wade ashore some fifty yards +or so, now that the sea was calm, since the +keel of the motor-boat would not admit a +closer approach in the shallows.</p> + +<p>We found our party all assembled, John having +but now issued his luncheon call; and, such +had proved the swift spell of this care-free life, +none expressed much delight at the announcement +of my decision to strike camp and move +toward civilization. Helena only looked up +swiftly, but made no comment; and Mrs. Daniver, +to my surprise, openly rebelled at leaving +these flesh-pots, where canvasback and terrapin +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> +might be had by shaking the bushes, and where +the supply of ninety-three seemed, after all, not exhausted. +Of course, my men had nothing to +say about it, but when it came to my partners +and associates, Lafitte and L’Olonnois, there was +open mutiny.</p> + +<p>“Why, now,” protested L’Olonnois, his lip +quivering, “O’ <em>course</em> we don’t want to go home. +Ain’t our desert island all right? Where you +goin’ to find any better place ’n this, like to +know? Besides”—and here he drew me to one +side—“they’s a good reason for not goin’ just +yet, Black Bart!”</p> + +<p>“What, Jimmy?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>“Well, <em>I</em> know somethin’.”</p> + +<p>“And what is it?”</p> + +<p>“Well, Jean Lafitte knows it, too.”</p> + +<p>“What is it then?”</p> + +<p>“Well, it ain’t happened yet, but it’s goin’ +to—or anyhow maybe.”</p> + +<p>“You interest me! Is it a matter of importance?”</p> + +<p>“—Say it was!”</p> + +<p>“To whom?”</p> + +<p>“Why, to you—an’ besides, to my Auntie +Helena. ’N’ you can’t pull off things like that +just anywheres. Jean Lafitte an’ me, we frame +up how to handle yon heartless jade, the fair +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> +captive, ’n’ here you butt in ’n’ spoil the whole +works. It ain’t right.”</p> + +<p>I bethought me now of the conversation I +had unwillingly overheard—and my heart was +grateful to these my friends—but the next instant +I remembered the note to Cal Davidson.</p> + +<p>“I thank you, Jimmy, my friend,” said I, “and +I believe I know what you mean, but it can’t +be done.”</p> + +<p>“What can’t, an’ why can’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Why, the—the frame-up that you have just +mentioned. In short—but, Jimmy, go on and +roll up the blankets.”</p> + +<p>“But why can’t it, and what do you know +about it? Tell me,” he demanded with sudden +inspiration, “is yon varlet a suitor, too, for +yon heartless jade?”</p> + +<p>“I decline to answer, Jimmy. Don’t let’s get +into too deep water. Go on and get your bundles +ready.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a fine pirate, ain’t you, Black Bart!” +he broke out. “Do you hold yerself fit to head +a band o’ bold an’ desprit men, when you let +yerself be bluffed by yon varlet, an’ him a thousand +miles away? You try <em>me</em>, just you gimme +a desert island, or even a pirut ship, a week, +like the chance you got, an’ beshrew me, but +any heartless jade would be mine!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> +“Oh, maybe not, Jimmy.”</p> + +<p>“—Or else she’d walk the plank.”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t any plank to walk here, Jimmy,” +said I, pointing to our boat, which lay in the +shoals far out. “I rather wish there were.”</p> + +<p>“You’ll have to carry my Auntie Helen out +on yore strong right arm, Black Bart.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll do nothing of the sort, Jimmy.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you like her no more? An’ if you +don’t, what’re we here for?”</p> + +<p>I could foresee embarrassments in further +conversation with Jimmy in his present truculent +mood, so sought out others less mutinous, +and gave orders for the striking of the camp +and the embarkment of all in the small boats. +I left Peterson and Willy to take the ladies +and most of the duffel in the large boat, assigned +John the dingey for his cook boat, and +decided to pole the light draft duck boat over +the shallows direct to the yacht, taking my two +associates with me. It was necessary, of +course, to carry our fair passengers out to the +long boat, which was some distance out on the +flat beach. Peterson and I made a cradle for +Mrs. Daniver, with our locked hands, and so +got her substantial weight aboard. Helena +mutely waited, but seeing her so, and unwilling +myself to be so near to her any more, I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +motioned her to step into the flat duck boat, dry +shod, and so poled her out to the long boat; +but I did so in silence, nor did she look up or +speak to me.</p> + +<p>Our new pilot sat in his own boat, and was +towed back, after rendering some assistance +with the cargoes; so now, at last, I was ready +to leave a spot which, in any other circumstances, +would have offered much charm for a +man fond of the out-of-doors. As for my +young friends, they were almost in tears as +they sat, looking back longingly at the great +flights of all manner of wild fowl continuously +streaming in and out of the lagoon. At any +other time, I would have been unwilling as +any to depart, but, now, the whole taste and +flavor of life had left me, and no interest remained +in any of my old occupations or enjoyments. +All that remained was the action necessary +to deliver Helena and her aunt back to +the usual scenes of their lives, to make their +losses as light as possible, to take my own +losses, and so close the books of my life.</p> + +<p>“There they come!” said Jean Lafitte, pointing +to a vast gaggle of clamoring wild geese +coming in from the bay. “Right over our point, +Jimmy! Gee! I wisht I was under them fellers +right now. Pow! Pow!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> +“Aw, shut up!” was Jimmy’s reply. “We +won’t never get no chance like this again. +Why, looky here, we was reg’lar castaways on +a real desert island, an’ we had a abandoned +ship, an’ we c’d ’a’ lived chiefly by huntin’ an’ +fishin’; and we had evaded all pursuit an’ run +off with the fair captive to a place o’ hidin’—why, +it’s all just like in the book. An’ what +do <em>we</em> do? Why, we go home! Wouldn’t it +frost you? An’ what’s worse, we let the heartless +jade get away with it, too! Ain’t that so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s true, Jimmy,” I replied.</p> + +<p>“Well, I was talkin’ to Jean Lafitte—but it’s +so. We started out all right as pirates, but +now we let a girl bluff us.”</p> + +<p>“What would you do, Jimmy, in a case like +that?” I inquired.</p> + +<p>“I would wring the wench’s slender neck, +beshrew me! She couldn’t put over none o’ +that coarse work on me. No, curses on her +fair face!”</p> + +<p>“That will do, Jimmy!” said I, and pushed +on in silence, Jean Lafitte very grave, and Jimmy +snuffling, now, in his grief at leaving the +enchanted island. So, all much about the same +time, we reached the <i>Belle Helène</i> and went +aboard. The ladies went at once to their cabin, +and I saw neither again that day, although I +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> +sent down duck, terrapin and ninety-three for their +dinner that night.</p> + +<p>In half an hour we were under way; and in +an hour and a half, having circumvented our +long desert island, we were passing through +the cut-off which led us back into Côte Blanche, +some fifty miles, I presume, from what was to +be our voyage’s end. We still were in the vast +marsh country, an inaccessible region teeming +with wild life. The sky now was clear, the +air once more warm, the breeze gentle, and +all the country roundabout us had a charm +quite its own. A thousand side channels led +back into the fortresses of the great sea-marsh, +to this or that of the many lakes, lagoons and +pond holes where the wild fowl found their feeding +beds. Here was this refuge, where they +fled to escape persecution, the spot most remote, +secluded, secret, inaccessible. Here nature +conspired to balk pursuit. The wide shallows +made a bar now to the average sailing +craft, and as for a motor-yacht like ours, the +presence of a local pilot, acquainted with all +the oyster reefs and shallows, all the channels +and cut-offs, made us feel more easy, for we +knew we could no longer sail merely by compass +and chart. A great sense of remoteness +from all the world came over me. I scarce +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> +could realize that yonder, so lately left behind, +roared the mad tumult of the northern cities. +This wide expanse was broken by no structure +dedicated to commerce, not even the quiet spire +of some rural church arose among the lesser +edifices of any village—not even the blue smoke +of some farmhouse marked the dwelling-place +of man. It was the wilderness, fit only for the +nomad, fit only for the man resentful of restraint +and custom, longing only for the freedom +of adventure and romance. The cycles of +Cathay lay here in these gray silences, the leaf +of the lotus pulsed on this lazy sea. Ah! here, +here indeed were surcease and calm.</p> + +<p>And all this I was leaving. I was going +back now to the vast tumult of the roaring +towns, to the lip of mockery, the eye of insincerity, +the hand of hypocrisy, where none may +trust a neighbor. And moreover, I was going +back without one look, face to face, into the +eyes and the heart of the woman I had loved, +and who, by force of these extraordinary circumstances +had, for a miraculous moment, +been thus set down with me, her lover, in the +very surroundings built of Providence for secrecy +and love! Yonder, speeding to her summons, +no doubt hastened, ready to meet her, +the man whom she had preferred above me. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> +And like a beast of burden, driven in the service +of these two, I was plodding on, in the +work of leaving paradise and opportunity, and +delivering safe into the hands of another man +the woman whom I loved far more than all else +in all the world.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS PHILOSOPHY; WHICH, HOWEVER, +SHOULD NOT BE SKIPPED</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>E passed on steadily to the northward +until mid-afternoon, making no great +headway with one propellor missing, but leaving +the main gulf steadily, and at length, raising, +a faint blue loom on the sky, the long oak-crowned +heights of those singular geological +formations, the heights known as “islands”, +that bound the head of this great bay. Here +the land, springing out of the level marshes +and alluvial wet prairies, thrusts up in long +reefs, hundreds of feet above the sea level. On +the eminences grow ancient and mossy forest +trees, as well as much half-tropic brake in the +lower levels. Here are wide and rich acres +also, owned as hereditary fees by old proud +families, part of whose wealth comes from their +plantations, part from their bay fisheries, and +much from the ancient salt mines which lie +under these singular uplifts above the great +alluvial plain. As of right, here grow mansion +homes, and here is lived life as nearly feudal +and as wholly dignified and cultured as any in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +any land. Ignorant of the banal word “aristocracy,” +here, uncounting wealth, unsearching +of self and uncritical of others, simple and fine, +folk live as the best ambition of America +might make one long to live, so far above the +vulgar northern scramble for money and display +as might make angels weep for the latter +in the comparison.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was Edouard Manning, planter, +miner, sportsman, gentleman, traveler, scholar +and host, who first taught me what wealth +might mean, may mean, ought to mean. Always, +before now, I had approached his home +with joy, as that of an old friend. There, I +knew, I would find horses, guns, dogs, good +sport and a simple welcome; and I could read +or ride as I preferred. A king among all the +cousins of Jean Lafitte, Monsieur Edouard. +Hereabouts ran the old causeway by which the +wagon reached the “importations” of Jean’s +barges, brought inland from his schooners hid +in the marshes far below. Here, too, as is +well known in all the state, was the burying-ground +of Jean Lafitte’s treasure-chests: for, +though the old adventurer sold silks and tobaccos +and sugars very cheap to the planters +and traders, he secreted, as is well known, +great store of plate, bullion and minted coins, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> +at divers points about the several miles of forest +covered heights; so that the very atmosphere +thereabout—till custom stales it for the +visitor who comes often there—reeks with the +flavor of pieces of eight, Spanish doubloons, +and rare gems of the Orient. Laughingly, +many a time Monsieur Edouard had agreed to +go a-treasure hunting with me, even had showed +me several of the curious old treasure-keys, +maps and cabalistic characters which tell the +place where Lafitte and his men buried their +gold—such maps as are kept as secret heirlooms +in many a Cajun family.</p> + +<p>But now, as I saw myself once more approaching +this pleasant spot so well known to +me, I felt little of the old thrill of eagerness +come over me. True, Edouard would be there, +and the dogs, and the birds, and the horses, +and the quiet welcome. True, also, I could, +either in truth or by evasion, establish a pleasant +and conventional footing for all my party—it +would be easy to explain so natural and +pleasant an incident as a visit during a yacht +cruise, and to laugh at all that silly newspaper +sensation which by now must fully have blown +over. True, Monsieur Edouard would be +charmed to meet the woman whose influence +on my life he knew so well. Yes, I could tell +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> +him everything easily, nicely, except the truth; +which was, that I was bringing to another +man’s arms the woman whom he knew I loved. +No, the blue loom of Manning’s Island gave me +no joy now. I wished it three thousand miles +away instead of thirty. I wished that almost +anything might prevent my arrival—accident, +delay.</p> + +<p>And then, in the most natural way in the +world, there were both! Without much warning, +the pulse of our engine slackened, the +throb of our single screw slowed down and +ceased. Williams stuck his head up out of his +engine-room and shouted something to Peterson, +who methodically drew out his pipe and +made ready for a smoke.</p> + +<p>“It’s no use going any farther,” explained +Williams when I came up. “That intake’s +gone wrong again, and she’s got sand all +through her. It’s a crime to see her cut herself +all to pieces this way. We’ve just got to stop +and clean her up, that’s all, and fix the job +right—ought to have done it back there before +we started in.”</p> + +<p>“How long will it take, Williams?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know, sir. More than this afternoon, +sure.”</p> + +<p>“That’s too bad,” said I, with a fair imitation +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> +of regret. “We had expected to make +Manning Island by night.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is too bad, but it’s better to stop +than ruin her, isn’t it, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly it is, and I quite approve your +judgment. But I presume we can go a little +way yet, until we find a good berth somewhere? +There’s a deep channel comes in from the left, +just ahead, and I think if we move on half a +mile or so, we can get water enough to float +even at low tide, and at the same time be out +of sight of any boats passing in the lower part +of the bay.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, sir, we can get that far,” said the +engineer. Peterson was full of gloom, and +though he thought nothing less than that we +were going to be kept here a month, as one +more event in a trip already unlucky enough, +he gave the wheel to our Cajun pilot, and we +crawled on around the head of a long point +that came out into the bay. Here we could +not see Manning Island, and were out of sight +from most of the bay, so that, once more, the +feeling of remoteness, aloofness, came upon me.</p> + +<p>Not that it did me any present good. I +despatched L’Olonnois as messenger to the +ladies, telling them the cause of our delay, and +explaining how difficult it was to say just when +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> +we would get in to the island; and then I betook +myself to gloomy pacing up and down +what restricted part of the deck I felt free for +my own use. I wearied of it soon, and went +to my cabin, trying to read.</p> + +<p>At first I undertook one of the modern +novels which had been recommended by my +bookseller, but I found myself unable to get +on with it, and standing before my shelves took +down one volume after another of philosophers +who once were wont to comfort me—men with +brains, thinking men who had done something +in the world beside buying yachts and country +houses. My eye caught a page which earlier +I had turned down, and I read again:</p> + +<p>“Trust thyself; every heart vibrates to that +iron string. Accept the place the Divine Providence +has found for you—the society of +friends, the connexion of events. Great men +have always done so, and confided themselves +childlike to the genius of their age.... And +we now are men, and must accept in the highest +mind the same transcendent destiny; and +not pinched in a corner nor cowards fleeing +before a revolution, but redeemers, and benefactors, +pious aspirants to be noble clay, under +the Almighty effort let us advance on Chaos +and the Dark.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> +I read the mystic, involved, subjective words +again, as most of the Concord Sage’s words +require, and reflected how well they jumped +with the note of my heathen Epictetus, who had +said, “Be natural and noble”. And, so thinking, +I began to wonder whether, after all, my +father, whose ruthless ways I betimes had explored, +whose ruthless sins I had betimes +atoned, had not been, perhaps, a better man +than sometimes I had credited him with being. +He, in accordance with his lights, had accepted +the part given him by the Poet of the Play. +He had confided himself childlike to the genius +of his age, roaring, fighting, scrambling, getting +and sometimes giving. He had trusted +himself; and in the end, a bold man, he had +advanced bravely on Chaos and the Dark. +After a life of war and sometimes of rapine, +done under the genius of his day, he had struck +boldly the last chord on an iron string. Dear +old Governor! I did not regret the million of +his money I had spent to restore his memory +clean in my own mind: for after all, it had all +been in open war—that time when he unloaded +a worthless mine on his friend, Dan Emory—Helena’s +father, Daniel Emory, who was, at +first, said to have left his family penniless; +until a shrewd lawyer in some miraculous way +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> +had managed to sell at a good price a box full +of worthless mining stock to some innocent +victim.</p> + +<p>Helena Emory never knew of that sale, nor +did her guardian aunt. I did know of it, for +the very good reason that I was both the +shrewd lawyer and the innocent purchaser. It +was the last act of my professional career; +and it was this which caused the general report +that I had made a bad mining venture, +had lost my father’s fortune, and retired from +my career a ruined man. A few friends knew +otherwise: and I blessed the rumor which cost +me certain friends who thought me poor and +so forsook me. Perhaps, my father would have +called me quixotic had he known. Now, as +I read and pondered, I neither blamed him for +his own course in fair business war with old +Dan Emory, nor did I censure myself for my +own hidden act of restitution. Let the world +wag its head if it liked, and remain ignorant +of other millions given to me before my father’s +death, unprobated, secret, after the fashion of +my pirate parent who buried his treasures and +told none but his kin how they might be found.</p> + +<p>Of course, in time, it all might come out. +In time, Helena would know that this yacht +which she supposed to be Davidson’s was my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> +own, that the farm I was supposed to have +rented really was a handsome estate that I +owned, that many covert deeds in finance had +been my own—it was only my silence and my +absence in many parts of the world which had +prevented her, also much a traveler, from knowing +the truth about me long ago. And the +truth was, I was not a poor man, but a rich +one.</p> + +<p>Yet he who had stolen my purse would indeed +have stolen trash this day. Rich in one +way, I was poor, indeed, in others. I cared +nothing for old Dan Emory’s money, but very, +very much for old Dan Emory’s daughter; and +her I might not have, even after all my efforts.... +No, the waters would leave no trail; and +once more, after I had restored old Dan Emory’s +daughter to her home and friends, I would +travel the wide world again, and the gossipers +might guess what causes had ended a professional +career, apparently ended a great fortune, +and actually had ended a life.... For, I +thought—using some philosophy of my own +making—it is not wealth, but usefulness, contentment +and independence which a man should +hold as his most desired success. These +achieved, little is left to gain. Any one of +these last, and nothing remains worth gaining.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> +I took up another book, at another marked +page: “Let us learn to be content with what +we have. Let us get rid of our false estimates, +set up all the higher ideals—a quiet home, +vines of our own planting; a few books full of +the inspiration of genius; a few friends worthy +of being loved; a hundred innocent pleasures +that bring no pain or remorse; a devotion to +the right that will never swerve; a simple religion +empty of all bigotry, full of trust and +hope and love—and to such a philosophy, this +world will give up all the empty joy it has.”</p> + +<p>I meditated over this also, applying these +tests to my own life.... Ah! now I saw why +my foot was ever restless, why I sought always +new scenes.... Where was my quiet home, +the vines of my own planting? Would I flee +from that to every corner of the world? Not +if it held the woman of my choice. Would +she thus roam restless, if she held the heart of +her chosen and if they had a home?... I began +to see the Plan unfold. Yes, and saw myself +outside the Plan.... Because of a devotion +to the right that would not swerve. Because +of a fanaticism, an “oddness”, a nonconformity—ah! +so I said bitterly to myself, because, +after all, I was unattuned to my age, +because I was unfit to survive before a man’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span> +own judge.... It is Portia judges this world. +The case of every man comes before a woman +for decision. I, who rarely had lost a case at +law where I could use my own trained mind, +had lost my first and only case at the bar of +Love....</p> + +<p>So—and I sighed as I shut the books and returned +them to their shelves—contentment +never could be mine, nor that quiet home +where only life is lived that is worth living; +nor usefulness; nor independence.</p> + +<p>I did not hear Jimmy when he came in, and +when he spoke I jumped, startled.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS AN ARMISTICE WITH FATE</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">“B</span>LACK BART!” said Jimmy. “Say, +now——”</p> + +<p>“Well, good mate,” said I, and laid a hand +on his curly fair head, “what shall I say?”</p> + +<p>“Say nothin’,” he remarked, dropping his +voice. “Listen!”</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“We have held a council.”</p> + +<p>“Who has?”</p> + +<p>“Why, me and Jean Lafitte and the heartless +jade. I told her you sent us to her to bid +her seek your presence.”</p> + +<p>“Jimmy! What on earth do you mean! +That’s precisely the last thing I would have +done—I haven’t done it. On the contrary——”</p> + +<p>“I told her,” he resumed calmly, “that when +Black Bart, the pirut, spoke, he spoke to be +obeyed. She said, ‘I can’t go,’ and I said, ‘You +<em>gotta</em> go.’”</p> + +<p>“You, yourself, may now go and tell her +that there has been a very bad mistake, Jimmy; +and that she need not come.”</p> + +<p>“An’ make her cry worse? I ain’t goin’ to +do it!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> +“Sir! This is mutiny!—But did she cry, +Jimmy?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Awful. She said she was homesick. +She ain’t. I don’t know what really is the matter. +I ast Jean Lafitte, an’ he said maybe +you’d know. We thought maybe it was something +about yon varlet. Do you know?”</p> + +<p>“No, I do not, Jimmy.” I found myself engaged +in one of those detestable conversations +where one knows the talk ought to end, yet +dislikes to end it.</p> + +<p>Jimmy stood for some time, much perturbed, +looking every way but at me, and at last he +blurted out.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you just jolly well awfully love the +fair captive, yon heartless jade—my Auntie +Helen? Don’t you, Black Bart?”</p> + +<p>I made no answer, but frowned very much +at his presumption.</p> + +<p>“—Because, everybody else does. She’s nice. +I should think you would. <em>I</em> do, I know mighty +well.”</p> + +<p>“She is—she is—she’s a very estimable young +woman, Jimmy,” said I, coloring. “I think I +may say that without compromising myself.”</p> + +<p>“Then why do you hurt her feelings the way +you do—when she’s plumb gone on you, the +way she is?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> +I sprang toward him to clap a hand over his +garrulous mouth, but he evaded me, and spoke +from behind the bathroom door. “Well, she +is! Don’t I hear her sticking up for you all +the time—didn’t I hear her an’ Auntie Lucinda +havin’ a reg’lar row over it again, ‘I don’t care +if he <em>hasn’t</em> got a cent!’ says she.”</p> + +<p>“But yon varlet is rich,” said I.</p> + +<p>“She didn’t mean yon varlet—she meant you, +I’m pretty sure, Black Bart. An’ she’s been +feedin’ Partial all the afternoon—say, he’s the +shape of a sausage.”</p> + +<p>“She is heartless, Jimmy! Little do you +know the ways of a heartless jade—she wants +to win away from me the last thing on earth +I have—even my dog. That’s all. Now, Jimmy, +you must go.”</p> + +<p>But he emerged only in part from his shelter. +“So Jean Lafitte an’ me, we looked it up in the +book; an’ it says where the heartless jade is +brought before the pirut chief, ‘How now, fair +one!’ says he, an’ he bends on her the piercin’ +gaze o’ his iggle eye: ‘how now, wouldst spurn +me suit?’ The fair captive she bends her head +an’ stands before him unable to encounter his +piercin’ gaze, an’ for some moments a deep +silence prevails——”</p> + +<p>“Jimmy!” I heard a clear voice calling along +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> +the deck. No answer, and Jimmy raised a +hand to command silence of me also.</p> + +<p>“Jimme-e-e-e!” It was Helena’s voice, and +nearer along the rail. “Here’s the fudges—now +where can the little nuisance have gone! Jim!”</p> + +<p>“Here I am, Auntie,” replied the little nuisance, +as she now approached the door of our +cabin; and he brushed past me and started not +aft but toward the bows. “An’ there <em>you</em> are!” +he shouted over his shoulder in cryptic speech, +whether to me or to his Auntie Helen I could +not say.</p> + +<p>She stood now in such position near my door +that neither of us could avoid the other without +open rudeness. I looked at her gravely +and she at me, her eyes wide, her lips silent +for a time. Silently also, I swung the cabin +door wide and stood back for her to pass.</p> + +<p>“You have sent for me?” she said at last, +still standing as she was. A faint smile—part +in humor, part in timidity, part, it seemed suddenly +to me, wistful; and all just a trifle pathetic—stirred +her lips.</p> + +<p>“‘I sent my soul through the Invisible,’” said +I; and stepped within and quite aside for her +to pass.</p> + +<p>“Jimmy told the biggest lie in all his career,” +said I. She would have sprung back.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> +“—And the greatest truth ever told in all +the world. Come in, Helena Emory. Come +into my quiet home. Already, as you know, +you have come into my heart.”</p> + +<p>“I am not used to going into a gentleman’s—quarters,” +said she: but her foot was on the +shallow stair.</p> + +<p>“It is common to three gentlemen of the +ship’s company, Helena Emory,” said I, “and +we have no better place to receive our friends.”</p> + +<p>She now was in the room. I closed the door, +and sprung the catch.</p> + +<p>“At last,” said I, “you are in my power!” +And I bent upon her the piercing gaze of my +eagle eye.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH ARE SEALED ORDERS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">S</span>HE stood before me for just a moment undecided. +The twilight was coming and the +room was dim.</p> + +<p>“Auntie will miss me,” said she, “after a +time.”</p> + +<p>“I have missed you all the time,” was my +reply.</p> + +<p>“But you sent for me?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I did. Doesn’t this look as +though I had?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t quite understand——”</p> + +<p>“Shall I call Jimmy to explain? He called +you a heartless jade——”</p> + +<p>“The little imp! How dare he!”</p> + +<p>“—As in fact all of our brotherhood has +come to call you: ‘The heartless jade.’”</p> + +<p>“I made fudges for him! And the little +wretch told me I wasn’t playing the game! +What did he mean? Oh, Harry, I wouldn’t +have come if I hadn’t wanted to play the +game fairly. I’m sorry for what I said.” She +spoke now suddenly, impulsively.</p> + +<p>“What was it you said?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> +“When I said—when I called you—a coward. +I didn’t mean it.”</p> + +<p>“You said it.”</p> + +<p>“But not the way you thought. I only +meant, you took an unfair advantage of a girl, +running off with her, this way, and giving her +no chance to—to get away. But now you do +give me a chance—you meant to, all along—and +in every way, as I’ve just done telling +auntie, you’ve been perfectly fine, perfectly +splendid, perfectly bully, too! It has been a +hard place for a man, too, but—Harry, dear +boy, I’ll have to say it, you’ve been some considerable +gentleman through it all! There +now!” And she stood, aloof, agitated, very +likely flushed, though I could not tell in the +dark.</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Helena,” I said.</p> + +<p>“And as to your being any other sort of a +coward—that you had physical fear—that you +wouldn’t do a man’s part—why, I never did +mean that at all. How could I? And if I +had—why, even Auntie Lucinda said your going +out after that Chinaman the other night +was heroic—even if he couldn’t have cooked +a bit!—and you know Auntie Lucinda has always +been against you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and you both called me a coward, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> +because I quit my law office and ran away from +misfortune.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we did. And I meant that, too! I +say it now to your face, Harry. But maybe I +don’t know all about that——”</p> + +<p>“Maybe not.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I wouldn’t want to be unjust, of +course, but I <em>don’t</em> think a man ought to throw +away his life. You’re young. You could start +over again, and you ought to have tried. Your +father made his own money, and so did my +father—why, look at the Sally M. mine, that +has given me my own fortune. Do you suppose +that grew on a bush to be shaken off? +So why couldn’t you go out in the same way +and do something in the world—I don’t mean +just make money, you know, but <em>do</em> something? +That’s what a girl likes. And you were able +enough. You are young and strong, and you +have your education; and I’ve heard my father +say, before he died—and other men agreed +with him—that you were the best lawyer at +our bar, and that you had an extraordinary +mind, and a clear sense of justice, and, and——”</p> + +<p>“Go on. Did he say that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“But with all my fine qualities of mind and +heart,” said I, “I lost all when I lost my +money!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> +“What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you what I mean—you dropped +me because you thought me poor. Well, I +don’t blame you. It takes money to live, and +you deserved all that the world can give. I +don’t blame you. There were other men in the +world for you. The trouble with me was that +there was no other woman in the world for +me. All our trouble—all our many meetings +and partings—have come out of those two +facts.”</p> + +<p>“Did you think that of me?” she asked at +length, slowly. I suppose she was pale, but I +could not see.</p> + +<p>“I certainly did. How could I think anything +else?”</p> + +<p>“Harry!” she half whispered. “Why, Harry, +Harry!”</p> + +<p>“Admit that you did!” I exclaimed bitterly, +“and let me start from that as a premise. Listen! +If you were a man, and loved a woman, +and she chucked you when you lost your +money, do you think you’d break your neck +to make any more success in the world after +that? Why should you? Why does a man +work? It’s for a home, for the sake of power, +and mostly for the sake of the game.”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And I could play that game—I can play it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> +now, and win at it, any time I like. I quit it +not because I was afraid of the game—it’s the +easiest thing in the world to make money, if +that’s all you really want to do. That’s all +your father wanted, or mine, and it was easy. +I can play that game. But why? Ah! if it +were to win a quiet home, the woman I loved, +independence, usefulness, contentment,—yes! +But when all those stakes were out of the +game, Helena, I didn’t care to play it any more. +And that was why you thought I ran away. +I did run away—from myself, and you.”</p> + +<p>She was silent now, and perhaps paler—I +could not see.</p> + +<p>“—But wherever I have gone, Helena, all +over the world, I’ve found those two people +there ahead of me, and I couldn’t escape them—myself, +and you!”</p> + +<p>“Did you think that of me, Harry?” She +half whispered once more.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did. And did you think that of me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I did. But I did not understand.”</p> + +<p>“No. Like many a woman, you got cause +and effect mixed up: and you never troubled +yourself to get it straight. Let me tell you, +unless two people can come to each other without +compromises and without explanations and +without reservations, they would better never +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> +come at all. I don’t want you cheap, you +oughtn’t to want me cheap. So how can it +end any way other than the way it has? If +it was my loss of fortune that made you chuck +me, I oughtn’t ever to give you a second +thought, for you wouldn’t be worth it. The +fact you did, and that I do, hasn’t anything to +do with it at all.”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“And if you don’t think me able and disposed +to play a man’s part in the world, you +oughtn’t to care a copper for me, that is plain, +isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, quite plain.”</p> + +<p>“And the fact that you did, and that you do, +has nothing to do with it—nothing in the +world, has it, Helena?”</p> + +<p>“No.” She must have been very pale, though +I could not tell.</p> + +<p>“Therefore, as logic shows us, my dear, and +because we never did get our premises straight, +and so never will get our conclusions straight, +either—we don’t belong together and never +can come together, can we?”</p> + +<p>“No.” I could barely hear her whisper.</p> + +<p>“No. And that is why, just before you came, +I was trying to pull myself together and to +advance as best an unhappy devil may, upon +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> +Chaos and the Dark! And that’s all I see +ahead, Helena, without you—Chaos and the +Dark.”</p> + +<p>“It was all you saw that night, in the little +boat,” she said after a time. “Yet you went?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, but that was different.”</p> + +<p>“Is this all, Harry?” she said, and moved +toward the door.</p> + +<p>“Yes, my dear; it is all—but all the rest.”</p> + +<p>Her color must have risen, for I saw dimly +that she raised both her hands to her bosom, +her throat. Thus the heartless jade stood, her +head drooped, unable to meet the piercing +gaze of my eagle eye.</p> + +<p>There came a faint scratching at the door, a +little whimpering whine.</p> + +<p>“It is Partial, my dog, come after you,” said +I bitterly. “He knows you are here. He never +has done that way for me. He loves you.”</p> + +<p>“He knows <em>you</em> are here, and he loves you,” +said she. “That is why things come and scratch +at doors where ruffians live.”</p> + +<p>I flung open the door. “Partial,” said I, +“come in; and choose between us.”</p> + +<p>As to the first part of my speech, the invitation +to enter, Partial obeyed with a rush; +as to the second, the admonition, he apparently +could not obey at all. In his poor dumb brute +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> +affliction, lack of human speech, he stood, after +saluting us both, alternately and equally, hesitant +between us, wagging, whining and gazing, +knowing full well somewhat was wrong between +us, grieving over us, beseeching us—but +certainly not choosing between us.</p> + +<p>“Give him time,” said I hoarsely. “He +loves you more, and is merely polite to me.”</p> + +<p>“Give him time,” said she bitterly. “He +loves you more, and you don’t deserve it.”</p> + +<p>But Partial would not choose.</p> + +<p>“He wants us <em>both</em>, Helena!” said I at last. +“He has wiped out logic, premises, conclusions, +cause and effect, horse, cart and all! +He wants us <em>both</em>! He wants a quiet home +and independence, Helena, and usefulness, and +contentment. Ah, my God!”</p> + +<p>She reached down and put a hand on his +head, but he only looked from one to the other of +us, unhappy.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you love me, Helena?” I asked +quietly, after a time. “For the sake of my +dog, can you not love me?”</p> + +<p>She continued stroking the head of the +agonized Partial.... And until, somewhat inarticulately, +I had choked or spoken, and had +caught her dark hair against my cheek and +kissed her hair and stammered in her ear, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> +turned her face and kissed her eyes and her +cheek and her lips many, many times, Partial +held his peace and issued no decision.... +At least, I did not hear him....</p> + +<p>She was sobbing now, her head on my shoulder, +as we sat on the locker seat, and Partial’s +head was on the cushion beside us, and he was +silent and overjoyed, and tranquilly happy—seeing +perhaps, that a quiet home would in the +event be his, and that he was going to live +happy ever after. And after I drew Helena’s +head closer to my face, I kissed her hair.</p> + +<p>“Do you love me, Helena?” I asked. “Only +the truth now, in God’s name!”</p> + +<p>“You know I do,” she said, and I felt her +arms about my neck.</p> + +<p>“Have you, always?”</p> + +<p>“I think so, yes. It seems always.”</p> + +<p>“We have been cruel to each other.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, are cruel now.”</p> + +<p>“How now?”</p> + +<p>“You make me say I love you, and yet——”</p> + +<p>“You will marry me—right away, soon, Helena—as +I am, poor, ragged, without a cent, +only myself?”</p> + +<p>“Not here,” she smiled.</p> + +<p>“At Edouard Manning’s, at once, as soon as +we get in?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> +“It is duress! I am in the power of a ruffian +band! Is it fair? Are you sure I know +my mind?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure only that I know my own! Tell +me, what was in that note I carried, addressed +to yon varlet Davidson?”</p> + +<p>“Sealed orders!”</p> + +<p>“And how does that affect me, Helena. Tell +me—I know you love me, and you know that +all the rest is small, to that; but as to that +wedding part of it, Helena—what do you say?”</p> + +<p>She hesitated for an instant. “You want me +to—come—to come with honor, as you do?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I’ll take any risk that means with +you.”</p> + +<p>“Will you take sealed orders, too?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Turn on the lights.”</p> + +<p>I reached the switch, and an instant later a +dozen high candle-power bulbs flooded the suite +with light. With a little cry of dismay Helena +sprang away, and stood at my shaving-glass, +arranging her hair. Now and then she turned +her face just enough to smile at me a little, her +eyes dark, languid, heavy lidded, a faint shadow +of blue beneath. And now and then her breast +heaved, as though it were a sea late troubled +by a storm gone by.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> +“What will auntie say?” she sighed at last.</p> + +<p>“What will you say?” I replied.</p> + +<p>“Oh, brute, you shall not know! I must +have some manner of revenge against a ruffian +who has taken advantage of me while I was in +his power!”</p> + +<p>“Ah, heartless jade!”</p> + +<p>“—So you shall wait until we are ashore. I +will give you sealed orders——”</p> + +<p>“When?”</p> + +<p>“Now. And you shall open them at your +friend’s house—as soon as we are all settled and +straightened after leaving the boat—as soon +as——”</p> + +<p>“It looks as though it were as soon as you +please, not when I please.”</p> + +<p>“Harry, it is my revenge for the indignities +you have heaped on me. Do you think a girl +will submit to that meekly—to be browbeaten, +abused, endangered as I have been! No, sir—sealed +orders or none. I have only owned I +loved you. So many girls have been mistaken +about things when—when the moon, or a +desert island or—or something has bewitched +them. But I haven’t said I would marry you, +have I, ever?”</p> + +<p>“No. I don’t care about that so much as the +other; but I care a very, very great deal about it, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> +too. You, too, are cruel. You are a heartless +jade.”</p> + +<p>“And you have been a cruel and ruthless +pirate.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me now!”</p> + +<p>“No.” And she evaded me, and gained the +door. “I must go. Oh, it’s all a ruin now—Auntie’ll +be furious. And what shall I say?”</p> + +<p>“Give her sealed orders, and my love! And +when do I get mine?”</p> + +<p>“In five minutes.”</p> + +<p>She was gone.... And after some moments, +rapt as I was at her late presence, which +still seemed to fill the room like the fragrance, +like the fragrance of her hair which still lingered +in my senses, I looked about, sighing +for that she was gone. Then I noted that our +friend Partial had gone with her. “Fie! Partial, +after all, you loved her more!” I said to +myself.</p> + +<p>But in a few moments I heard a faint sound +at my door. I opened. There stood Partial in +the dusk, gravely wagging his tail, looking at +me without moving his head. And I saw that +he held daintily in his mouth a dainty note, +addressed to me in the same handwriting as +that on the note I had sent out from the heartless +jade to yon varlet. And it was sealed, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> +marked with instructions for its opening.... +“When You Two Varlets Meet.” No more.</p> + +<p>“Peterson,” said I, advancing to the forward +deck, where I found him smoking, “I’ve been +getting up some correspondence, since we’ll +be ashore by to-morrow noon——”</p> + +<p>“—I don’t know as to that, Mr. Harry.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I know about it. So, tell Williams +that, even if he has to work all night, we must +be moving as soon as it’s light enough to see. +I’ve got a very important message——”</p> + +<p>“By wireless, Mr. Harry?” chuckled the old +man.</p> + +<p>“Yes, by wireless,” (and I looked at Partial, +who wagged his tail and smiled). “So I +must get into Manning Island the first possible +moment to-morrow. And Peterson, as we’ve +had so good a run this trip, with no accident +or misfortune of any kind, I don’t know but +I may make it a month or two extra pay—double—for +you and Williams, and even John. +And as to Willy, please don’t fire him, Peterson, +for his deserting the ship’s cook the other +night. In fact, I’m very glad, on the whole, +he did. Give him double pay for doing it, +Peterson!”</p> + +<p>“Ain’t this the wonderful age!” remarked +Peterson to a star which was rising over the +misty marsh. “Especial, now, that wireless!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> +I only patted Partial on the head, and we +smiled pleasantly and understandingly at each +other. Of course, Peterson could not know what +we knew.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH LAND SHOWS IN THE OFFING</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">B</span>EFORE the white sea mists had rolled +away I was on deck, and had summoned +a general conference of my crew.</p> + +<p>“’Polyte,” I demanded of our pilot, “how +long before your partner will be at the lighthouse, +below, there?”</p> + +<p>“’Ow long?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, maybe thees day sometam.”</p> + +<p>“And how long before he’ll start back with +the mail?”</p> + +<p>“’Ow long?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, maybe thees same day sometam.”</p> + +<p>“And how long will it take him to get back +to some post-office with those letters?”</p> + +<p>“’Ow long?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, maybe those nex’ day sometam.”</p> + +<p>“And then how long to the big railroad to +New Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“’Ow long?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> +“Oh, maybe those nex’ day too h’also sometam, +heem.”</p> + +<p>“Then it will be three days, four days, before +a letter could get from the lighthouse to +New Orleans?”</p> + +<p>“’Ow long?”</p> + +<p>“Three or four days?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Oui</i>, maybe so.”</p> + +<p>“And how long will it take us to get in to +the plantation of Monsieur Edouard, above, +there?”</p> + +<p>“’Ow long?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“H’I’ll could not said, Monsieur. Maybe +three four day—<i>’sais pas</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Holy Mackinaw!” I remarked, <i>sotto voce</i>.</p> + +<p>“Pardon?” remarked ’Polyte respectfully. +“Le Machinaw—<i>que-est-que-ce-que-est, ca</i>?”</p> + +<p>“It is my patron saint, ’Polyte,” I explained, +and he crossed himself for his mistake.</p> + +<p>“Suppose those h’engine he’ll h’ron, we’ll get +in four five h’our h’all right, on Monsieur Edouard, +yass,” he added. “H’I’ll know those +channel lak some books.”</p> + +<p>By now Williams—who, judging by certain +rappings, hammerings and clankings heard +through the cabin walls back and above the +engine-rooms, had been at work much of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> +night—had reported, and much to my pleasure +had said he thought we could make it in at +least to the Manning dock before further repairs +would be needed. To prove which, he +went down and “turned her over a time or +two,” as he expressed it. Whereupon I gave +orders to break out the anchor, and knowing +that any Cajun market hunter and shrimp +fisher like ’Polyte can travel in any mist or fog +before sunup by some instinct of his own, I +took a chance and began to feel our way out +to the mouth of the Manning channel before +the morning mists were gone; so that we were +at breakfast by the time the wide and gently +rippling bay broke clear below us, and by +magic, we saw the oak-crowned heights of the +island dead ahead.</p> + +<p>Thence on, within the walls of the deep +dredged channel, all we had to do was to go +sufficiently slow and follow the curves carefully, +so that the heavy waves of our boat, +larger than any intended for that channel, +might not too much endanger the mud walls, +or threaten wreckage to the frail stagings leading +to the cabins of the half-aquatic trappers +and fishers who dwell here in the marshes.</p> + +<p>So, at last, after many windings and doublings, +we came in at the rear of the timbered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> +slopes, and could see the mansion houses and +the offices of the stately old plantation, where +dwelt my friend, Edouard Manning, who knew +nothing of my coming.</p> + +<p>After custom, I signaled loud and often with +the boat’s whistle, so that the men might come +to the landing for us; and, in order that Edouard +himself might be warned, I gave orders +to my hardy mates to make proper nautical +salute of honor.</p> + +<p>“Cast loose the stern-chaser, Jean Lafitte,” +said I: “and do you and L’Olonnois load and +fire her often as you like until we land; or +until you burst her.”</p> + +<p>Gleefully they obeyed, and soon the roar of +our deck gun echoed formidably along the +slopes, as had no gun since the salt-seeking +Union navy, in the Civil War, had pounded at +the gates of Edouard’s father: and until scores +of coots and rail chattered in excited chorus +for answer, and long clouds of wild ducks +arose and circled over the marsh. Again and +again, my bold mates loaded and fired: and +now, turning back by chance from my own +place at the wheel, I saw that they had assumed +full character, and each with a red kerchief +bound about his brow, was armed with, +I dare not say how many, pistols, dirks, swords +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> +and cutlasses thrust through his belt or otherwise +suspended on his person.</p> + +<p>I saw now the two ladies, their fingers in +their ears, also on deck, protesting at this +cannonading at their cabin door; and so I +raised my hat to a very radiant and radiantly +appareled Helena, for the first time that day; +and heard the answer of L’Olonnois to the +dour protest of Auntie Lucinda.</p> + +<p>“We follow Black Bart the Avenger, an’ let +any seek to stop us at their per-rul! Jean, run +up the flag, while I load her up again.”</p> + +<p>And Jean having once more hoisted the skull +and cross-bones at our masthead, and assumed +a specially savage scowl as he stood with folded +arms on our bow deck, we made what a +mild imagination might have called rather an +impressive entry as we swept into the Manning +landing.</p> + +<p>I was not surprised to see Edouard himself +there, and his wife, and some thirty odd dogs +and as many blacks, waiting for us at the +wharf. Nor was I surprised to see that all +seemed somewhat to marvel at our manner of +advent, though I knew that Edouard, through +his field-glasses, had recognized both my boat +and myself long before we made the last curve +and came gently in to the wharf where the +grinning darkies could catch our line.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> +What did surprise me—and perhaps for a +time I may have shown surprise—was to see, +in all this gay throng, two forms not usual on +the Manning landing. One was the elegantly +garbed and rather stunning figure of Sally +Byington; and the other the robust, full-bodied, +gorgeously arrayed form of my old friend, Cal +Davidson! How or why they came there I +could not for the moment guess.</p> + +<p>“’Tis he—yon varlet!” I heard a stern voice +hiss at my ear. “Beshrew me, but it shall go +hard with him! I’m loading her up with marbles +now!” But I had no more than time to +persuade my two lieutenants to modify this +purpose, and partially to disarm themselves, +before the two groups were mingling, with +much chattering and laughing and gay saluting.</p> + +<p>Edouard, hat in hand, was on deck before +our fenders touched the wharf, laughing and +grasping my hands and looking up at my flag.</p> + +<p>“I knew you were coming,” said he. “Fact +is, all the country’s been looking for you. +Davidson just got in a couple of hours ago—and +you know his lady is an old friend of Mrs. +Manning’s. And——”</p> + +<p>He was shaking the hands of Mrs. Daniver +and Helena almost before I could present them. +Auntie Lucinda bestowed upon him the gaze +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> +of a solemn and somewhat tear-stained visage +(though I saw distinct approval on her face as +she caught sight of the great mansion house +among the giant oaks, and witnessed the sophisticatedness +of the group on the landing, +and the easy courtesy of Edouard himself).</p> + +<p>“By Jove! old man!” the latter found time +to say to me, “I congratulate you—she’s away +beyond her pictures.” He did not mean Mrs. +Daniver; and he never had seen Helena before. +I could only press his hand and attempt no +comment as to the congratulations, for part of +that was a matter which yet rested in a sealed +envelope in my pocket; and at best it must be +three or four days.... But then, with a great +flash of arrested intelligence, it was borne in +upon me that perhaps, after all, it was not so +much a question of the tardy United States mails! +Because yon varlet, fat and saucy, and well content +with life, already, by some means and for +some reason, had outrun the mails. He was +here, and we had met. It need not be four +days before I could learn my fate.... I +reached into my pocket and looked at my +sealed orders. No matter what Davidson’s letter +held, here was Davidson himself.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say, there, you Harry, confound +you!” roared Davidson to me in his great +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> +voice above the heads of everybody. “I say, +what did I tell you?”</p> + +<p>Now I had not the slightest idea what Davidson +had told me, nor what he meant by waving +a paper over his head. “They’ve signed +Dingleheimer for next year! Now what do +you think of that? World’s championship, and +good old Dingleheimer for next year—I guess +that’s pretty poor for them little old Giants, +what?” And he smiled like one devoid of all +care as well as of all reason.</p> + +<p>I myself smiled just a moment later—after I +had greeted the Manning ladies, had seen +Helena step up and kiss Sally Byington fervently, +directly on the cheek, whose too keen +coloring I once had heard her decry; had +slapped Edouard joyously on the shoulders and +pointed to my pirate flag and gloomy black-visaged +crew—I say I also smiled suddenly +when I felt a hand touch me on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>’Polyte, the pilot, stood, cap in hand, and +asked me to one side.</p> + +<p>“Pardon, Monsieur,” said he, “but those <i>gentilhommes</i>—those +fat one—ees eet she’ll was Monsieur +Davelson who’ll H’I’ll got letter on heem +from those lighthouse, heem?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, ’Polyte—the letter you said would +take four days to get to New Orleans.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> +’Polyte smiled sheepishly. “He’ll wouldn’t +took four days now, Monsieur! H’I’ll got it +h’all those letter here. H’I’ll change the coat +on the <em>lighthouse</em>, maybe, h’an H’I’ll got the coat +of Guillaume witt’ h’all those letter in her, +yass?” And he now handed me the entire +packet of letters, which I had supposed left far +behind us on the previous day!</p> + +<p>I took the letters from him, and handed all +of them but one to Edouard’s old body servant +to put in the office mail. The remaining +one I held in the same hand with its mate: +and I motioned Davidson aside to a spot under +a live oak as the other began now slowly to +move toward the path from the landing up +the hill.</p> + +<p>“This is for you,” said I, handing him his +letter; and told him how it came to him thus.</p> + +<p>“It’s from Helena—dear old girl, isn’t she +a trump, after all!” he said, tearing open the +letter and glancing at it.</p> + +<p>“She is a dear girl, Mr. Davidson,” said I, +stiffly, “yes.”</p> + +<p>“Why, of course—yes, of course I’d have +done it, if I’d got this before I left the city,” +said he, “but how can I now?”—holding the +letter open in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Do you mean to tell me,” I began, but +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> +choked in anger mixed with uncertainty. What +was it she had asked of him, offered to him? +And was not Helena’s wish a command.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I mean to tell you or any one else, I’d +do a favor to a lady if I could; but——”</p> + +<p>“What favor, Mr. Davidson?” I demanded +icily.</p> + +<p>“Well, why ‘Mr. Davidson’? Ain’t I your +pal, in spite of all the muss you made of my +plans? Why, I’m damned if I’ll pay you the +charter money at all, after the way you’ve +acted, and all——”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Davidson, damn the charter money!”</p> + +<p>“That’s what I say! What’s charter money +among friends? All right, if you can forgive +half the charter fee, I’ll forgive the other half, +and——”</p> + +<p>“What was in the letter from her?”</p> + +<p>“It’s none of your business, Harry—but still, +I don’t mind saying that Miss Emory wrote +me and said that if I was still—oh! I say!” he +roared, turning suddenly and poking a finger +into my ribs, “if you haven’t got on one of my +waistcoats!”</p> + +<p>“The one with pink stripes,” said I still +icily, “and deuced bad ones they all are. And +these clothes I borrowed from my China boy. +But then——”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> +“I see, you must have come in a hurry, eh?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. But come now, old man, what’s in +that letter? I’ve got one of my own here, done +in the same hand, hers. I am under sealed +orders—until I shall have met you, which is +now. So I suppose some sort of explanation +is due on both sides. We might as well have +it all out here, before we join the house party, +so as to avoid any awkwardness.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing in my letter to amount to anything,” +he replied. “Miss Emory only wanted +to know if I’d please have her trunks shipped +out here from New Orleans—only that; and +she asked me please to bring her a box of +marshmallows, as hers were all gone. She’s +polite, always, dear old Helena—she says, +here, ‘So pleasant is our journey in every way, +and so kind have you gentlemen been, and so +thoughtful in providing every luxury, that I +can not think of a single thing I could ask for +except some more marshmallows. Jimmy, the +young imp, my nephew, you know, has found +mine, though I hid them under both cushions +in the stateroom.’”</p> + +<p>I had my hat off, and was wiping my forehead. +A sudden burst of glory seemed to me +to envelope all the world. If there had been +duplicity anywhere, I did not care.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> +“I suppose Jimmy is the one with two guns +and a Jap sword, eh?” asked Davidson.</p> + +<p>“No, the other one, God bless him! Is that +all there was in the letter, Cal?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. What’s in yours? What’s the game—button, +button, who’s got the girl? And +can’t you <em>open</em> your letter now?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said I, and did so. It contained just +two words (Helena afterward said she had not +time to write more while Auntie Lucinda might +be in from the other stateroom).<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + +<p>“Well, what’s it say, dash you!” demanded +Cal Davidson. “Play fair now—I told, and so +must you!”</p> + +<p>“I’m damned if I do, Cal!” said I, and put +it in my pocket. But I shook hands with him +most warmly, none the less....</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> (Those interested may find them later in the text.<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a>)</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + +<h3>IN WHICH IS MUCH ROMANCE, AND SOME TREASURE, +ALSO VERY MUCH HAPPINESS</h3> + + +<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>E walked on slowly up the hill together, +my friend Calvin Davidson and myself, +following the parti-colored group now passing +out of sight behind the shrubbery. At last we +paused and sat down on one of the many seats +that invited us. Around us, on the great lawn, +were many tropic or half-tropic plants, and the +native roses, still abloom. Yonder stood the +old bronze sun-dial that I knew so well—I +could have read the inscription, <i>I Mark Only Pleasant +Hours</i>; and I knew its penciled shadow +pointed to a high and glorious noon.... It +seemed to me that Heaven had never made +a more perfect place or a more perfect day; +nor, that I am sure, was ever in the universe +a world more beautiful than this, more fit to +swing in union with all the harmony of the +spheres.... I had fought so long, I had been +so unhappy, had doubted so much, had grown +so sad, so misanthropic, that I trust I shall be +forgiven at this sudden joy I felt at hearing +burst on my ears—albeit a chorus of Edouard’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> +mocking-birds hid in the oaks—all the music +of the spheres, soul-shaking, a thing of joy +and reverence.... So I spoke but little.</p> + +<p>“But I say, old man,” began Davidson presently, +“it’s all right for a joke, but my word! +it was an awfully big one, and an awfully risky +one, too,—your stealing your own yacht from +me! I didn’t think it of you. You not only +broke up my boat party—you see, Sally was +going on down with us from Natchez—Miss +Emory said she’d be glad to have her come, +and of course she and Mrs. Daniver made it +proper, all right—I say, you not only busted +that all up, but by not sending a fellow the +least word of what you were going to do, you +got those silly newspapers crazy, from New +Orleans to New York—why, you’re famous, +that is, notorious! But so is Miss Emory, +that’s the worst of it. I don’t just fancy she’ll +just fancy some of those pictures, or some of +those stories. Least you can do now is to +marry Helena and the old girl, too, right off!”</p> + +<p>“In part, that is good advice,” said I. “I +wish I could wear your clothes, Cal—but I +remember now that Edouard and I can wear +the same clothes, and have, many a time.”</p> + +<p>“But I say, don’t be so hoggish. There’s +other people in the world beside you—<em>you’d</em> never +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> +have thought of making that river cruise, now +would you?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Nor you couldn’t have got Helena aboard +the boat if you had, now could you?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Let alone the old girl, her revered aunt!” +He dug another thumb into his own pink +striped waistcoat. “She loves you a lot, I am +not of the impression!”</p> + +<p>“No, I think she rather favored you!” I replied +gravely.</p> + +<p>“No chance! And I say, isn’t Sally a humdinger? +Just the sort for me—something doing +every minute. And a fellow can always +tell just what she’s thinkin’——”</p> + +<p>“I’m not right sure, Cal, whether that’s safe +to say of any woman,” said I. “A ship on the +sea, or a serpent on a rock has—to use your +own quaint manner of speech, my friend—so +to speak, nothing on the way of a maid with +a man. But go on. I do congratulate you. +Do you know, old man, I almost thought, once—a +good while ago—that you were just a +little—that is—<i>épris</i> of Helena your own self?”</p> + +<p>“Come again? ‘Apree’—what’s that?”</p> + +<p>“—Gone on her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, not at all, not at all—not in the least! +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span> +Why, I can’t see what in the world—oh, well +of course, you know, she’s <em>fine</em>; but what I +mean is, why—there was Sally, you know. +Say, do you know why I wanted to get Sally +away on that boat?—I was afraid you’d cut in +somewhere, run across her down at Mardi Gras, +or something. And I just <em>figured</em>, once you +got a girl on a boat that way, away from all +the other fellows, you know, why even a plain +chap like me would have a chance, do you see? +And I say now, I’ll own it up—I was right +down <em>jealous</em> of <em>you</em>, too! Wasn’t it silly? And +I ask your pardon. You’re an awfully good +sort, Harry, though you’re so d——d serious—you +get too much in earnest, take things too +hard, you know. Will you shake hands with +me, knowing what a fool I’ve been? I say, +you’re the best chap in the world, old man—if +only you were a little more <em>human</em> once in a +while.”</p> + +<p>He put out his hand and I met it. “Will +you shake hands with me, Cal?” said I, “on +precisely those same terms about having been +an awful fool? It’s you who are the best chap +in the world. And I’ll admit it—I was jealous +of you!”</p> + +<p>He roared at this. “Well,” said he, “as +George Cohan says, ‘All’s well that ends well’, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> +and I guess we couldn’t beat this for a championship +year, now could we? Now say, about +Dingleheimer——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, hang Dingleheimer, Cal!” I exclaimed. +“What I want to know is, did you ever talk +any to Miss Emory about—well, about me, you +know?—say anything about my affairs, or anything, +you know? I mean while you were +there on the boat together.”</p> + +<p>“No. She wouldn’t let me. Besides, the +truth is, I was so full of Sally all the time, I +mostly talked about <em>her</em>. By Jove! that was a +measly trick you played us, running off with +the boat from under my nose! But I proposed +to Sally in Natchez that night, and she came +on down to the city the next day by rail—while +<em>I</em> ran down in that dirty little scow you left +behind. And I never tumbled for days that it +was <em>you</em> had run off with the boat—though I +found a photo of Helena and your cigarette +case in the boat you left. Never tumbled till +that story of the taxi driver came out. Then +I said, ‘Well, of all things! Wonder if that +old stick has really come to life after all!’ +And you sure had! What’s in <em>your</em> letter? +Say, ain’t a boat the place——”</p> + +<p>“But how did you happen to be here?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I’ve known Ed Manning years, in New +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span> +York, Paris, all around. He asked me to visit +him some time. I wired and asked him if I +could come out for our honeymoon—you know, +Harry, I’m such a d——d romantic son of a +gun, and once before I was out here at Ed’s, +and those d——d nightingales, catbirds, what +d’ye call ’ems——”</p> + +<p>“—Mockers.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, mockers, they sung so sweet, especial +in the evenings, you know—and I’m so d——d +romantic—<em>always</em> was thataway—and you +know, why, a fellow <em>can</em> be romantic on his +honeymoon, can’t he?—he can just cut loose +then an’ be as big a d—n fool as he likes +then—an’ get away with it, what? Say, can’t +he?”</p> + +<p>—“Yes.”</p> + +<p>—“So that’s why I came.”</p> + +<p>—“But—honeymoon? Are you going to be +married?”</p> + +<p>—“Naw! I ain’t goin’ to be married—I <em>am</em> +married! Day before yesterday, in New Orleans. +And I don’t believe in dandlin’ an’ foolin’ +around about a little thing like that. Ain’t +you married yet?”</p> + +<p>“No. Impossible. No preacher on Côte +Blanche Bay or on our boat. I’ve got Aunt +Lucinda Daniver along, to take care of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span> +proprieties. If I should leave it to her, I never +would be married.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p>“She thinks I’m broke.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, too bad about that! I wish I could +swap bank rolls with you. Why didn’t you tell +her the truth—and Helena, too? Why didn’t +you tell ’em it was your own yacht? Why +didn’t you tell ’em you’re worth a few millions +and don’t have to work?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know—maybe I’m like you, Cal, +foolish about nightingales and things. But tell +me—you never did tell them anything about +that Sally M. mine business, did you?”</p> + +<p>“No, I should say not! Didn’t you tell me +you didn’t want it to get out? It was bad +enough, the way old Dan and your—sainted +father handed it to each other over that mine, +wasn’t it? I know about it, for I promoted +that mine myself, and the name’ll prove that—Sally +M. Byington, with the Byington left off! +There wasn’t a blasted thing in it then. But +when you—like a blame quixotic fool—after +she was good for six thousand a month velvet, +and ore blocked out to last a thousand years—why, +then you fool around in Papa’s records, +and think Papa wasn’t on the square with old +Dan. So on the quiet you get it all made over, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span> +back to old Dan’s daughter; and take a sneak +into the hazelbrush when she turns you down! +Say, you know what <em>I’d</em> a-done?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>—“I’d a-held on to the mine and told the girl +how much it was bringin’ in—that’s <em>my</em> system. +Then I’d a-got the mine and the girl +both, maybe!”</p> + +<p>—“Maybe.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that’s the system I’d a-played. I +wouldn’t a-took to the tall grass, me.”</p> + +<p>“On the other hand, I played a system invented +by myself and Henri L’Olonnois.”</p> + +<p>“I never heard of him. Well, anyhow, you +were rich enough to afford to do what you +liked. But as to keeping it secret, you can’t +do that any longer. Those newspaper fellows +are the devil to get hold of things. Since all +this stuff came out about you running away +with your own boat—I can see now why you +did it, and I’m glad you did—why, your whole +life history has been printed, including all that +restitution business about the Sally M. Fellows +came to me and asked me about you, +asked if I knew you. Said, yes, I knew you—said +you were a romantic chap, and a good +business man, too—and the best old scout in +the world—what?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> +I had arisen, and stood in some doubt. +“What’s the matter—let’s go on up to the +house. I want to see Sally,” he concluded.</p> + +<p>“And I want very much to see Helena,” +said I. “Only, it’s going to be rather harder +now to meet her—and Mrs. Daniver.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t know,” said Cal Davidson; +“every fellow plays his own system. There’s +something in what you say about women having +a good poker face so far as tellin’ what they +think about a man is concerned—yes. Frinstance, +how much did Helena know I knew, or +know you knew or thought you knew—well, +you get me? But the trouble with you is, +you ain’t romantic in your temperament like +me.... But if I was you, I wouldn’t be scared +to tell Mrs. Daniver I had a dollar and a quarter +or so left! It’ll soften the blow some to +her, maybe. And as for Helena——”</p> + +<p>“And as for Helena, I can look her in the +face, and she can me, now. And—will you +telephone to New Iberia for a minister—at +once—for this evening train? And will you +tell Edouard to have his man lay out his best +evening clothes for me—tell him I’ll trade him +these of my cook’s for them—and a suit of +traveling clothes? Because, oh! fellow varlet——” +(I paused here; we both did; for a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span> +mocker just now broke into an extraordinary +burst of song, so sweet, so throbbingly sweet, +that we could not help but listen, both of us +being lovers)....</p> + +<p>“What were you saying, old man?” Cal Davidson +asked after a while, musingly, as one +awakening.... “Some bird, what?”</p> + +<p>... “Because, to-night,” I answered, “I am +going to marry my fair captive, yon heartless +jade, Helena. I’ve loved her always, rich or +poor, and she loves me, rich or poor. And we +shall live happy ever after. And may God bless +us, and all true lovers!”</p> + +<p>“Amen!” I heard some one say; and have +often wondered whether it was yon varlet, the +mocking-bird, or Cal Davidson himself, who +spoke.... I looked around for Partial. He +had followed Helena.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> (The words in Helena’s note, addressed to Henry +Francis Drake, Esquire, were, as I have said, but two: +“Yes—Now”. That was why I was married that evening. +It was curious about the wedding ring, for that I would +not borrow; so an old negro blacksmith took a gold ring +Edouard gave me, one found years ago by a Cajun +treasure hunter in some one of the few successful hunts +for the treasure of Jean Lafitte; and into this, in place of +the gem long since missing, he clasped my pearl, the one +we got on the river far in the north; the great pearl later +known as the largest and most brilliant ever found in +fresh water. It was I who named it the “<i>Belle Helène</i>”. +So that our ring pleased all but L’Olonnois and Jean Lafitte. +These two pirates had set at work that very afternoon, +with ’Polyte (by Edouard’s consent) and dug behind +the smoke-house. Wonderful enough, they did find +old bricks, enclosing a sort of hollow cavity, bricks of an +ancient day; and though they got nothing else (’Polyte +said he knew who had beaten them to this treasure—it +was Achilles Dufrayne of Calcasieu, curse him!) they +both explained how easy it would be to deceive the fair +captive into thinking we really had found the ring’s setting +as well as the ring itself, in a pirate treasure-box. +I would not do that, on the ground that already I had +deceived the fair captive quite enough.... But, though +yon varlet, my friend dear old Cal Davidson, spoke rather +freely about his honeymoon, and all that, I can not do so +of mine with Helena.... I did not know that I could +again be so happy. Often I have wished I were a romantic +man, like dear old Cal.... I fear my book on +the mosquitoes of North America never will be written +now.—H. F. D.)</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 3em; font-size: 120%;"><b>THE END</b></p> + + +<div class="bbox"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> + +<p>Minor typographic errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected +without note.</p> + +<p>The Table of Contents has been made consistent with the chapter headers, +as follows--"In Which I Have a Polite Conversation" amended to "In Which I +Have Polite Conversation"; "In Which Is Certain Conversation" amended to "In +Which Is Certain Polite Conversation".</p> + +<p>This book contains some archaic spelling, and some dialect; this is all +reproduced here as in the original.</p> + +<p>Illustrations have been moved slightly so that they are not in the middle +of a paragraph. The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow +the title page.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Lady and the Pirate, by Emerson Hough + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADY AND THE PIRATE *** + +***** This file should be named 24907-h.htm or 24907-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/9/0/24907/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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