It was nine of as fine a winter morning as the South ever saw when at

last, having passed without pause all intervening ports, we found

ourselves at the city of New Orleans. Rather, in the vicinity of that

city; for when we reached the railway ferry above the town, I ran

alongshore and we made fast the Belle Helène at a somewhat

precarious landing place. I now called Peterson to me.

"It's a fine morning, Peterson," said I.

"Yes, sir, but I think 'tis going to rain." (Peterson was always

gloomy.) "You must go down-town, Peterson," said I. "The through train from the

West is late and just now is coming into the ferry. You can take it

easily. We have got to have still more gasoline, for there is a long

trip ahead of us, and I am not sure what may be the chance for

supplies below the city."

"Are you going into the Gulf, Mr. Harry?"

"Yes, Peterson. You will continue to navigate the boat; and, meantime,

you may be quartermaster also. I shall be obliged to remain here until

you return."

The old man touched his cap. "Very good, sir, but I'm almost sure not

to return."

"Listen, Peterson," I went on, well used to his customary depression

of soul, "go to the ship's furnisher, Lavallier and Thibodeau, toward

the Old Market. Tell them to have all our supplies at slip K, below

the railway warehouses, not later than nine this evening. We want four

drums of gasoline. Also, get two thousand rounds of ammunition for the

twelve gages, ducking loads, for we may want to do some shooting. We

also want two or three cases of grapefruit and oranges, and any good

fresh vegetables in market. All these things must be ready on the

levee at nine, without fail. Here is my letter of credit, and a bank

draft, signed against it--I think you will find they know me still."

The old man touched his cap again but hesitated. "I'm sure to be asked

something," he said somewhat nervously.

"Say nothing about any change of ownership of this boat, Peterson, and

don't even give the boat's name, unless you must. Just say we will

meet their shipping clerk at slip K, this evening, at nine. Hurry

back, Peterson. And bring a newspaper, please."

"Is any one else going down-town?" asked Peterson. "I may run into

trouble."

"No, we shall all remain aboard."

He departed mournfully enough, seeing that the ferry boat now was

coming across with the railway train. I continued my own moody pacing

up and down the deck. Truth was, I had not seen Helena for more than

twenty-four hours, nor had any word come from the ladies' cabin to

give me hope I ever would see her again of her own will. My surprise,

therefore, was great enough when I heard the after cabin door close

gently as she came out upon the deck.




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