But few words passed between myself and my companion for the first ten
miles along the road. He was absorbed in profound melancholy, while I
was busied in making certain calculations. We travelled as fast as was
safe for our horses; though far more rapidly than these were accustomed
to go. Wherever the road would admit of it, our pace was a gallop; at
other times a gentle canter, or an ambling gait, known throughout the
Mississippian States as "pacing." This, where horses have been trained
to it (and most western horses have), is one of the fastest and most
convenient gaits for travellers to adopt. Both horse and horseman are
less fatigued by it than by either the trot or gallop; and the speed
attained is almost as good as by either.
I had some difficulty in restraining my companion. Still labouring
under the excitement produced by the painful discovery, he would have
galloped on at top speed, till his horse had broken down under him. I
knew that this would be the greatest of misfortunes; and that, if we had
any chance of reaching Cincinatti as soon as the steamer, an incident of
this kind would be certain to destroy it. Should either of our horses
give up, from being overridden, much time might be lost before we could
replace them; and this, perhaps, might occur miles from any town--miles
from any stable where it was possible to obtain a remount. Our only
hope, therefore, lay in carefully guarding against such a _contretemps_;
and economising the strength of our animals, as far as the necessary
rate of speed would allow us.
Of course we had no idea of riding the same horses all the way. That
would have been impossible--at all events within the time allowed us for
the journey. It was our intention to take the Saint Louis horses some
sixty miles or so, in fact, to such place as we might obtain a relay,
thence to proceed upon fresh ones, sixty or seventy miles further; and
so on till we had reached our destination. This sort of journeying
would require a liberal outlay; but of that we were not in the mind to
care much. The object upon which we were bent rendered such
considerations of inferior importance.
I have said that I was engaged in certain calculations. They were
rather conjectures as to the probability of our success, though they
partook also of the character of the former. Some of my data were exact
enough. Others depended only on contingencies, that might or might not
turn in our favour. Of one thing, however, I was able to assure both
myself and my companion; and that was, that there was still a
possibility of our overtaking the adventurer, and if fortune favoured
us, a probability of it. I need hardly say how joyed was De Hauteroche
by the assurance. Of course it was but my opinion; and I had only
arrived at it, after a process of reasoning in which I had examined the
case in all its hearings. Before starting off from Saint Louis, we had
not allowed time for this. In the confused haste of preparation, we
thought only of entering upon the pursuit; and had started blindly
forward, without even calculating the chances of success. It would be
time enough to think of these upon the road: at all events, it was not
before we were fairly on the road, that we found time to talk of them.
One of the data, upon which I relied, was that incidentally furnished me
by the pilot of the _Sultana_. He had stated, during our short
conversation, that the _Missouri Belle_ would reach Cincinatti in less
than four days--in all about four days from the time she had taken her
departure from Saint Louis. Monsieur Gardette had confirmed this
statement: it agreed with his own information. About four days was the
usual time in making such a journey. The boat had the start of us about
three quarters of a day. True she had a longer route to go--by more
than a hundred miles--but then her progress would be continuous, night
and day, at a speed of at least ten miles an hour; while we must rest
and sleep. Could we have ridden three days and nights without stopping,
we might have headed her. This, however, was a physical impossibility,
or nearly akin to it. I believe my companion would have attempted it,
had I not restrained him. I had still hoped that we might arrive in
time; and, by making one hundred miles a day, we might calculate on so
doing. Three days would thus bring us to Cincinatti; and I knew that
the steamer could not arrive before.
It proved a long, hard ride; and, I need scarcely add, that it was not a
merry one. It required all my efforts to cheer my companion, who
sometimes sank into the most profound melancholy--varied at intervals by
a passionate outburst of anger, as he reflected upon the villainous
outrage, of which himself and those he held dearest had been made the
victims. There was still hope, however; and that had its effect in
restoring his spirits to an occasional calmness.
It was a long, weary ride; and occupied the greater part of both night
and day. Many a poor steed was left along our route, with just strength
to return to his stable. We scarcely took rest or sleep; but, saddling
fresh horses, we pressed on. The road seemed interminable,
notwithstanding the rate at which we travelled; and many miles of it we
passed over, asleep in our saddles!
Our journey ended at length; but notwithstanding all our exertions, we
had not made good our programme. It was the fourth day when we caught
sight of the spires of Cincinatti--near the evening. No more weary eyes
than ours ever looked upon the walls of a city. But the prospect of
success awakened us to fresh energy; and we rode briskly onward and
entered the streets.
The "Henry House" was upon our way, and it was the only hotel--at least,
the one where such a party would be certain to stop. We halted and made
inquiries. They had not been there: though other passengers by the
_Missouri Belle_ were in the house. The boat, then, had arrived!
We were preparing to hasten on board; but it was not necessary.
"Strangers," said the hotel keeper, pointing to a gentleman who stood
near, "if you wish to inquire about any passengers by the _Missouri
Belle_, that is the captain himself."
"Yes," freely answered the latter, in reply to our inquiries, "two
ladies and a gentleman--Madame Dardonville, of Saint Louis--I know the
lady--and her daughter. The gentleman I do not know--a young lawyer
from New Orleans, I believe."
"At what hotel have they stopped?"
"Not at any. A Wheeling boat was just going out as we came to the
landing; they went by her. They were going East."
De Hauteroche and I slipped out of our saddles, and walked, or rather
trotted into the hotel. The intelligence was terrible, and for the
moment unmanned us both. Fortune appeared to be on the side of
villainy.
Story 2, Chapter XVIII.