One evening the purser, Mr. Anderson, came to Miss Gerard with a book in his hand. After introducing himself he remarked that he had with him a most entertaining novel, and it had occurred to him that perhaps she would like to read it. Naturally, after passing through so many ordeals, Helen asked herself, "Now, what can this man want?" However, she replied without hesitation, "With pleasure: after a couple of days, when I have read it, I wish you would come to the cabin and I will return it to you;" and again she said to herself, "In this way I shall see more of this man and learn his motive." At a later day she discovered that he was from New Orleans, a paroled Confederate prisoner who knew of the Claytons. How he became an ally at a critical moment will presently appear.
Helen found the book sufficiently interesting to divert her thoughts from dwelling on the further perplexities which she knew were yet to come to vex her soul and perhaps hinder her journey. Retiring to her state-room on the following morning after breakfast, she had again become absorbed in the pages of the novel when she was startled by a loud, authoritative voice in the cabin. Curious to know who it could be, she opened the state-room door, and a glance revealed a new danger. She saw an officer in Federal uniform and with a conspicuously large military moustache about to seat himself at the centre-table, at the same time spreading a large book before him. She perceived that the hour had arrived which was to put to the test all her courage and ingenuity. Unnoticed, she stepped back and locked the door, and climbing up to the highest berth quietly awaited events. Nervously turning the leaves of her novel, she noticed some words written with a pencil on the fly-leaf. With eager eyes she read, "Should you need a friend call on me," signed "Purser," and dated on the previous day. At that instant she was shocked by hearing Mrs. Clayton's loud voice in the cabin. Putting her face close to the lattice over the door of the state-room, she saw the portly Southern dame, who up to this hour had stoutly affirmed that never would she take the horrid oath of allegiance to the wicked Yankee government, standing by the table with her right hand uplifted and deliberately repeating the words dictated by the officer. Few people have a conception of what an exquisite instrument of torture was invented when the famous "iron-clad oath," as it was called, was devised for unrepentant rebels. To refuse it was to abridge liberty and privilege, while to take and keep it was to abandon a cause bred into the bone and sinew of the Southerner.
Descending softly but in all haste, Helen unlocked the door, and then climbing back to the berth again she drew her form out to its full length and carefully covered herself with the bed-clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles and entirely concealing herself. Scarcely had she completed this arrangement when the door was opened, and she recognized the voice of the colored chambermaid inquiring if any one was in the state-room who had not yet taken the oath. Fortunately, she did not enter the room for the purpose of making a close inspection. Aware that the woman would return, Helen, as soon as the door was closed, lost no time in getting down from the upper to the lower berth and taking an easy position with the open book in her hand, in order that she might be seen on the next visit. No sooner had she done this than the chambermaid again peered through the door, and seeing Miss Gerard inquired if she had taken the oath.
With a yawn Helen answered, "Aunty, that matter has all been attended to."
"All right, honey;" and the negress left, satisfied with having thoroughly done her duty. In another moment the Federal functionary, with the great book under his arm, departed, evincing evident gratification at having performed his duty.
One great danger had been successfully avoided by Helen, but another was not far distant before she could be permitted to land, of which she was forcibly reminded when Mr. Anderson came that evening for his book. She rose to meet him, in order that they might not be overheard. When she handed the book to him he said in an undertone, "Are you furnished with the necessary documents to go ashore, as in a few hours we shall be in New Orleans?"
Avoiding a direct answer, Helen replied, "I do need a friend."
He answered, "Rely upon me, and when going ashore cling closely to my side."
She gave a searching look at his face, and instinctively divining that she might hazard herself in his power, replied, "Many thanks: I will do so," and returned to her seat, not without a vague uneasiness, however.
The spires of New Orleans appeared gleaming in the rising sun of the following morning, and the steamboat, with all her freight of hopes and fears, glided up to the levee. Each holding in his hand the official permit to leave, the passengers pressed into the gangway, where two officers with crossed swords barred the passage and carefully examined every paper. The Claytons, having taken the oath, went through without difficulty, while Helen hastened forward to Mr. Anderson, whom she found waiting for her in the gangway. He motioned to her to pass in advance of him. When she came to the crossed swords he cried, "Let this lady, my sister, pass." The swords separated like magic, and with a fast-throbbing heart she stepped on shore, and in another moment was seated in a carriage with her companions. She alighted at the City Hotel, where she parted with the Claytons.