"No," I answered, not unwilling to be left alone with Eloise; "you are welcome to put up petitions in our behalf, but this lady is not of your faith, while as for myself, I have known little about such matters since childhood. One thing, however,--if you propose making use of that bull voice of yours, I advise that you select the farther extremity of the island for the scene of your devotions, lest you arouse the Chevalier."
He cast upon me a glance not altogether pleasant, but tramped off through the bushes without reply, and for several moments we heard the sturdy rise and fall of his earnest supplications, frequently interspersed with hearty groans, as of one in all the agony of deep remorse.
"'Tis an odd fish we've hooked out of the stream," I said, turning my head toward the dismal sounds. "Yet he has strong arms, and may be of considerable use, if he will consent to voyage with us."
"I scarcely know what to make of the man," Madame admitted candidly. "He is unlike any I have ever met. Yet I think he may prove honest and of good heart, although his exterior is far from attractive."
"And his appetite hardly suggestive of economy," I added.
The bright look I always loved to see leaped into her clear eyes.
"Have you faith his labor will offset his eating?" she replied, laughing.
"Possibly not; yet it is not labor alone I would select him for. We may have to fight before we attain a place of safety. For that purpose I would rank this fellow highly. Never yet have I met a red-headed man averse to a quarrel. Faith! by that token, this one should be worth a company if we ever come to blows."
"But he is a priest, you told me, a preacher of the Protestants."
"Ay! and the better for it. I have heard my father say the Puritan breed makes the stoutest men-at-arms; that nothing has been found to stiffen a battle-line equal to a good text. Give this fellow a pike, pit him against a boatload of Spanish papists, and, I 'll warrant, he 'll crack more heads than any two of us. Besides, he controls a perfect tornado of a voice, fit to frighten the crew of a frigate on a dark night."
She was sitting, her back pressed against a small tree, her hands clasped lightly about one knee, with dark eves gazing afar where the broad river danced away into the golden sheen.
"Geoffrey Benteen," she asked soberly, never glancing toward me, "is it true you do not desire my return to New Orleans?"