"He had to pass through a narrow alley on his way back to the vessel. The overseer and four more stretched a wire across it; he couldn't see the wire in the night, and fell over it. They leaped on him while he was down, handcuffed, gagged him, and put him into a droger. It was nothing uncommon to see Lemaire's overseer taking a runaway slave home, and no one paid any attention to it."
"When will he probably be here again?"
"To-day is Saturday; next Tuesday will be his day."
Walter did not communicate his information to any one, not oven to Ned. In the mean time, they were all very much puzzled to divine why he did not get under way, if he was going from one plantation to another, and not lose any more time.
Sunday night, without giving the source of his information, he told them he had ascertained where Lemaire's plantation was; that he would probably be at St. Pierre the next Tuesday, or thereabouts; and to look sharp for a droger with a white waist, a red bead round her, and H. L. in the middle cloth of her mainsail.
Tuesday afternoon, about three o'clock, Ned, whose curiosity had led him to go to the mast-head, reported that there was a sail in sight, which proved to be the droger they were expecting, followed at different distances by several others, also belonging to Lemaire.
"Mr. Gates," said the captain, "let us take the boat when he gets along, and have a look at him."
They put the sail in the boat, shipped the fancy rudder, which had not been used since they left Pleasant Cove, and started just as the droger came to anchor at a cable's length from the beach.
They were passing the droger, on their way to the beach, while her negro crew were furling the sails. The planter, who was seated on deck, smoking, hailed and invited them to come on board. They gladly accepted an invitation which afforded a personal interview with the very man they were so anxious to see.
Quite contrary to their expectations, they found Henri Lemaire, in appearance at least, an affable, frank, pursy little Frenchman, of about sixty years of age, and very neatly dressed. It was evidently the boat that had attracted his attention; for the first question he asked, after the usual salutations had been exchanged, was, "Will you sell that boat, captain?" instantly adding, with a smile, "Of course you will. Your countrymen will sell anything; for it was in this very harbor that one of your American captains sold all the masts he had for a thousand dollars, and went home with a jury-mast."