ed up to
requirements. The easterly wind sent her lightly before it, cutting sheer
and quick through the roughened sea. With his arm in a sling of white
linen, my father sat motionless, apparently passive and regardless of the
flight of time. It was only when we veered in the wind and orders were
shouted from forward that he looked about him.

"Your arm, Brutus," he said.

On deck the crew was at work about the long boat, and over the port rail,
perhaps a quarter of a mile away, I could see our house, with a light
burning in the window, flickering through the waving branches of the elms
that half hid it. Nearer lay our wharf, a black, silent shadow. My father
watched without a word. The anchor chain growled out a sharp complaint,
and the anchor splashed into the tide.

"Mr. Aiken," said my father, "give orders to get under way in half an
hour. When we land, the men will wait at the wharf, and be ready to enter
the house when you call them. You shall come with me, my son. I can still
show you something amusing and instructive."

"And I?" Mademoiselle demanded. "Shall you leave me here?"

He seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"Earlier in the evening, Mademoiselle," he replied, "I had given orders
for my sloop to carry you to New Orleans. Your boxes will be taken from
the house, and you will be taken on board from here. May you have a
pleasant journey, and may your friends be well when you arrive."

"You mean it is good-by?" she asked, and her voice had a sound that
reminded me of tears. "You mean we shall not meet again?"

He bowed low over her hand.

"Mademoiselle will be relieved to know we shall not," said my father
gravely. "Let me hope you may always have more pleasant company."

She seemed about to speak again, but she did not. Instead, she turned
silently away and left him, and a second later I saw her disappear in the
shadow of the main-mast.

"Ah," said my father, "there is a woman for you. My son, in the side
pocket of my coat you will find a snuff box. Would you kindly open it for
me and permit me to take a pinch? And you, perhaps? No? It is a pleasant
sedative."

He took a step nearer the rail, and the men about the long boat stiffened
to attention.

"Get them into the boat, Mr. Aiken," he said, "You and I will sit in the
stern, my son. Your arm, Brutus, so."

"Stand by to lower away," directed Mr. Aiken in a harsh undertone; and
the blocks creaked and we were in the river.

The oars had been