Chapter Sixty Four.
Two Villains.
We travelled rapidly. There were no hills to impede our progress. Our route lay along the Levee Road, which leads from New Orleans by the bank of the river, passing plantations and settlements at every few hundred yards’ distance. The path was as level as a race-course, and the hoof fell gently upon the soft dusty surface, enabling us to ride with ease. The horses we bestrode were mustangs from the prairies of Texas, trained to that gait, the “pace” peculiar to the saddle-bags of the South-western States. Excellent “pacers” both were; and, before the night came down, we had made more than half of our journey.
Up to this time we had exchanged only a few words. I was busy with my thoughts—busy planning my enterprise. My young companion appeared equally occupied with his.
The darkening down of the night brought us closer together; and I now unfolded to D’Hauteville the plan which I had proposed to myself.
There was not much of plan about it. My intention was simply this: To proceed at once to the plantation of Gayarre—stealthily to approach the house—to communicate with Aurore through some of the slaves of the plantation; failing in this, to find out, if possible, in what part of the house she would pass the night—to enter her room after all had gone to sleep—propose to her to fly with me—and then make our escape the best way we could.
Once clear of the house, I had scarce thought of a plan of action. That seemed easy enough. Our horses would carry us back to the city. There we might remain concealed, until some friendly ship should bear us from the country.
This was all the plan I had conceived, and, having communicated it to D’Hauteville, I awaited his response.
After some moments’ silence, he replied, signifying his approval of it. Like me, he could think of no other course to be followed. Aurore must be carried away at all hazards.
We now conversed about the details. We debated every chance of failure and success.