"No, no," he answered, in rather a confused manner, offering his arm to Camillia, "I have not seen him yet. But pray let me lead you to your carriage, the corridors and lobbies are terribly crowded."
He took no notice whatever of Pauline Corsi, who followed as she best could, but who was speedily separated from them by the crowd, and by the rapidity with which Augustus hurried Camillia through the passages and down the staircase.
By the time they had reached the portico of the theater, they had completely lost sight of the French governess.
Augustus handed the Spanish girl so quickly into a carriage that she was not able to take any particular notice of the vehicle; but when seated inside, she saw, from the gleam of the lamps without, that the cushions and linings were of a different color to those of her own equipage.
"Mr. Horton," she exclaimed, "this is not my carriage." Augustus was standing at the door as she spoke.
"No matter!" he said; "we have no time to lose, drive on," he added, addressing the negro on the box, and at the same moment he sprang into the carriage and drew up the window.
Camillia was bewildered and alarmed by his conduct.
"You have forgotten Pauline," she exclaimed; "we are leaving her behind us."
"Mademoiselle Corsi must shift for herself," answered the planter, as the carriage drove rapidly away, and turning out of the brilliantly lighted thoroughfare, plunged into one of the darkest streets in New Orleans. "I have wished to spare you all anxiety, Donna Camillia, but concealment can no longer prevail. Your father has been taken ill, and has sent for you."
"My father ill! dangerously ill?"