The Lady and the Pirate - Page 119/199

And with this resolution, formed when I caught sight of the passing

flood, I found a sudden peace and calm, and so knew that I was fit for

my adventure as yon other boy, L'Olonnois, was for his.

I paused at the edge of the wharf, at the side of our boat. We still

were arm in arm, still silent, though she must have felt the beating

of my heart.

"Helena," I whispered, "yonder, one step, and your parole is over.

Here it is not. That boat, just astern, is the one in which Cal

Davidson chased us all the way from Natchez, in which I chased him all

the way from Dubuque. His men do not know we are here, nor does he as

yet. Now, what is it that you wish to do?"

She stood silent for some time, tightening her wrap at the throat

against the river damp, and made no answer, though her gaze took in

the dark hull of the low-lying craft made fast below us. When at last: "One thing," she began, "I will not do."

"What is it?" I asked. We spoke low, but I well knew my men were aware

of our coming.

"I shall ask no favor of you." And as she spoke, she stepped lightly

on the rubbered deck of the Belle Helène.

"Halt! Who goes there?" called the hoarse voice of Jean Lafitte, the

faithful: and I knew the joy of the commander feeling that loyalty is

his.

"'Tis I, Black Bart," I answered, full and clear. "Cast off, my

friends!"

At once the Belle Helène was full of activity. Peterson I met at

the wheel. I heard the bells jangle below. I saw Jean, active as a

cat, ready at the mooring-stub, waiting for the line to ease. Then

with my own hand I threw on every light of the Belle Helène, so that

she blazed, in the power of six thousand candles, search-light and

all: so that what had been a passing web of gloom now became a

rippling river. The warehouses started into light and shade, the

shadows of the wharf fled, the decks of the grimy craft alongside

became open of all their secrets.

And now, revealed full in the flood of light as she stood at the side

portal, Helena did what I had not planned. Freed of her parole she

was--and she had asked no favor of me--so she had right to make

attempt to escape; and I gently stepped before her even as Jean cast

off and sprang aboard: and as I heard L'Olonnois' voice imperatively

demanding silence of the pounding at the after cabin door. All at

once, I heard what Helena heard--the rattle of wheels on the stone

flagging of the street beyond. And then I saw her fling back her cloak

and stand with cupped hands. Her voice was high, clear and unwavering,

such voice as a pirate's bride should have, fearless and bold.