The Lady and the Pirate
Page 63Partial 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 before him--loved at first sight, he stood again and
worshiped.
"Nice doggie!" said Helena courteously.
"Have a care, Helena!" said I. "Love my dog, love me! And all the
world loves Partial."
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.
"We do not get back to Natchez."
"Oh? Then I suppose Mr. Davidson picks us up at Baton Rouge?"
"Yon varlet," said I, "does not pick us up at Baton Rouge."
"New Orleans?"
"Or at New Orleans--unless he is luckier than I ever knew even Cal to
be."
"Whatever do you mean?" inquired Aunt Lucinda in tones ominously deep.
"That the Belle Helène is much faster than the tug we left behind at
Natchez, even did he find it. He will have hard work to catch us."
"To catch us?"
"Yes, Helena, to catch us. Of course he'll follow in some way. I have,
The ladies looked from me to each other, doubting my sanity, perhaps.
"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."
"On a sand-bar, Helena? Among the alligators?"
"Of course I mean at the nearest town."
"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."
"What right have you on this boat?" she demanded fiercely.
"Why do you intrude--how dare you--at least, I don't understand----"
"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.
"Thank you," rejoined Helena icily. "It would hardly be courteous to
Mr. Davidson--to use his servants and his table in this way in his
absence. Besides----"