The Lady and the Pirate

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 Helène 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?"