“Oh, you did, Williams,” said I. “It was Mrs. Daniver. She suffers much with neuralgia and is in great pain. I shouldn’t wonder if I should have to go up-town and get a physician for her even yet. But, Williams, in any case we’ll be sailing soon, and I want you to overhaul the screen of the intake pipe for that port boiler. We’re getting into very sandy waters, and of course you don’t want anything to happen to your engines. Can you attend to that at once?”
“Surely, sir,” said he, and went below again. I closed the hatch on him. Meantime I hurried aft, to see what could be done toward quelling any possible uproar. My blue-eyed lieutenant, L’Olonnois, had been as efficient in his way as Jean Lafitte. Now, in full character, he was enjoying himself immensely. When I saw him, he was standing with his feet spread wide apart in the center of the cabin floor, with drawn sword in his hand.
“Lady,” said he, addressing himself to Aunt Lucinda, “it irks me as a gentleman to be rude with one so fair, but let me hear one more word from you, and your life’s blood shall dye the deck, and you shall walk the plank at the morning sun. You deal with L’Olonnois, who knows no fear!”
Deep silence, broken presently by a little laugh; and I heard Helena’s voice in remonstrance. “Don’t be so silly, Jimmie!”
“Silly, indeed,” boomed the deep voice of Aunt Lucinda, catching sight of me at the door. “Yonder is the villain who put him up to this.”
“Oh, is that you?” said Helena, coming toward me. “Where are we, Harry?”
“In the port of New Orleans, Miss Helena,” was my answer, “a city of some three hundred thousand souls, noted for its manufacture of sugar, and its large shipments abroad of the staple cotton.”
“May I come on deck?” she queried after a while.
“We are alongside the levee, and there is little to see. We shall be sailing now in a few moments.”
“But mayn’t I come up and see New Orleans, even for a minute as we pass by? I’ll be good.”