Prisoners of Chance

We durst not swim to the nearest landing, just beyond the bow of the big flag-ship we had so unceremoniously quitted, fearing our efforts to stem the current might attract the attention of some watcher on board. So permitting myself to drift silently beneath the vessel's stern, without the stir of a limb to disturb the water, I was soon well away from the great black shadow. Without a word De Noyan followed. Yet time was far too precious to permit long drifting, and at the earliest moment I dared the venture we turned aside, striking out boldly for the shore.

"We must move rapidly, Chevalier, to make up lost time," I cautioned briefly, wading out, dripping, upon the bank.

"Are the streets patrolled by the Dons?"

"Ay! although not as thoroughly as when the Spaniards first landed. We shall require to exercise caution."

"Where do you take me? There can be no safe hiding spot in New Orleans?"

"I know none. We go to the rear of a long row of tobacco sheds near the North Gate. A boat thoroughly stocked, with two oar men, awaits us."

"I mind the place," he said eagerly, "I outfitted there for hunting more than once. It is best for me to lead, as I know well every inch of the path, and have grown interested in the play."

He certainly proved his familiarity with that labyrinth of sombre streets and alleys. Selecting a devious course, stooping low beneath the black shadows of walls and fences, he yet set so swift a gait with his confounded long legs it kept me puffing to follow. But we found clear passage, seeing no one close enough to interfere with our rapid progress, while no challenge sounded, until we crept, silently as possible, around the dilapidated end of the old tobacco shed, and a black figure, scarcely distinguishable in the gloom, suddenly arose, uttering no word, yet with threatening gesture, barring further passage toward the river.

"Virginia," I gasped, breathless from the hard run.

"Bless de Lawd, Massa Benteen," returned a darky voice. "An' Massa Charlie, as I 'm a sinner. I tell you, sah, we done 'bout gib you both up fo' suah."

"Stop talking just now, Alphonse, and lead along lively," said De Noyan, with returning authority. "We can converse later, in surroundings more congenial."

Another moment and we were in the boat, the Chevalier pushing it clear of the bank, then lightly clambering in over the stern.

"Benteen," he exclaimed, panting heavily, "I confess I'm about useless from lack of wind. Sacre! I 've been housed so long I am weak as an invalid, yet I can steer the craft if you inform me where 'tis best to go."