IN WHICH WE HAVE A SENSATION
With 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 _Belle Helene_ 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.
We slipped down-stream gently and silently, yet 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.
"I'm none too easy in my mind," said my old skipper to me, as we stood
together forward.
"Why not, Peterson?"
"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."
"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."
"It may come out all right," said the old man gloomily, "but sometimes
I fear for the worst."
"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."
"Port it is, sir," said Peterson gloomily, still smoking. And he made
as neat a landing as ever in his life.
A shadowy form arose amidst the blackness of the dock and came
directly forward to take our line.
"Who's that?" I demanded. "Are you from Lavallier and Thibodeau?"
"Yes, M'sieu," came the answer. "Those supply is here."
"All right. Help him get the stuff aboard, Peterson."
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.
"Bid the varlets hasten," he hissed to me. "Time passes."
"Back to your post, L'Olonnois," I rejoined. "See that the captives
remain in their room."
Jean Lafitte, too, proved unable to restrain his curiosity, and this
time his habit of close observation was of benefit in an unexpected
way.
"Hist, Black Bart!" he whispered distinctly, clutching my arm. "What
boat is that?"
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.
"I can't see her name," said Jean Lafitte, "but she looks a lot like
our own old boat."
I hastily stepped on the wharf and got a closer look in the wavering
beams of an arc light at the name on the boat's bows. There, in
indistinct and shaky, but unmistakable characters, was the title
painted by my young ruffians, weeks earlier--_Sea Rover!_
"Jean Lafitte," I whispered, "you are right, and now indeed we must
have a care. Yon varlet has beaten us into New Orleans."
"Let's board her and take her," hissed Jean Lafitte. "We can do it
easy."
"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 _Sea Rover_. Probably not, for every one
seems gone to bed."
"I'll find out," said Jean Lafitte boldly, and before I could stop him
was gone, springing lightly on the deck of the _Sea Rover_.
"Hello in there," he hailed. "Are you all asleep?"
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.
"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 come from Natchez. Mr. Davidson, he's
up-town."
"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.
"Hurry now," I whispered to Peterson. "Get that stuff aboard quick.
Don't forget the crates of fruit and vegetables."
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.
"What's that?" he demanded of me as I passed. "I thought I heard some
one calling."
"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
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?"
"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.
"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!"
Deep silence, broken presently by a little laugh; and I heard Helena's
voice in remonstrance. "Don't be so silly, Jimmie!"
"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."
"Oh, is that you?" said Helena, coming toward me. "Where are we,
Harry?"
"In the port of New Orleans, Miss Helena," 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."
"May I come on deck?" she queried after a while.
"We are alongside the levee, and there is little to see. We shall be
sailing now in a few moments."
"But mayn't I come up and see New Orleans, even for a minute as we
pass by? I'll be good."
"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."
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.
"I have your word, then?" I demanded of her.
"Yes. You can't blame me for wanting to get out, to see what is going
on."
"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 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
cafes--he knows a thousand people here."
"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."
"We are almost ready to sail, Helena. Suppose we see Luigi's some
other time. Things are getting pretty close about us here."
"Any pirate should be a man of courage," said she; "he should be ever
willing to take a chance."
"Very well; have I not taken several chances already?"
"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."
"What! Again, Helena? Have I not tried that and found it a failure?"
"You have no courage. You are no pirate. I challenge you to a test."
"What is it, Helena?"
"Let us go up-town and have a little supper at Luigi's, the way we
used to, Harry, when we really were friends."
"What, with Cal Davidson loose in the town and his boat lying here?"
"That is the adventure!"
"You would turn me over to the authorities?"
"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."
"Why did you not?"
"Because it is an adventure, because it will take something of real
courage, I fancy, to meet a risk like that!"
"There would be some risk for us all," said I truly.
"There you go, balancing and not deciding. You are no pirate."
"What will you give me if I go, Helena?" said I.
"Nothing beyond thanking you. One thing, you must not think that I
would trick or trap you."
"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?"
"Yes, very much. But if you took me by New Orleans without a supper at
Luigi's, I should hate you even more."
"Jean--Jean Lafitte," I called out in a low tone of voice.
"Aye, aye, Sir!" he saluted, as he came to the place where we stood,
like some seasoned sailorman, regardless of youthful hours of sleep.
"I am going up-town with the captive maiden. Do you stand here on
watch. We shall be gone about three hours."
"Hully gee!" ejaculated Jean Lafitte, but at once he saluted again.
"'Tis well, Black Bart," said he.
"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."
"Isn't Aunt Lucinda going, too?" demanded Helena.
"She certainly is not!"
"Is it--is it quite correct for me to go alone with you?"
"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.