ersisted Charlotte, determined to know the worst.

"In Louisiana, twenty years, I believe."

"Thank you; that is what I wished to find out."

The little man bowed and went his way; and Captain Mayfield, who was an
observant man in the field of river stages and other natural phenomena,
but not otherwise, did not remark Miss Farnham's sigh which was more
than half a sob.

"Twenty years!" she shuddered; "it might as well be for life. He would
be nearly fifty years old, if he lived through it."

It did not occur to the captain to wonder how Miss Farnham came to know
anything about the bank robber's age, but he spoke to the conditional
phrase in her comment.

"Yes; if he lives through it: that's a mighty big 'if' down here in the
levee country. Twenty years of the chain-gang would be about the same as
a life sentence to most white men, I judge."

Charlotte turned away quickly; and when she could trust herself in the
presence of her aunt, she led the way back to the shade of the
after-deck awning and tried, for her own sake, to talk about some of the
many things that had gone to make up the sum of their daily life before
this black cloud of perplexity had settled down. It was a dismaying
failure; and when the invalid said she would go and lie down for awhile,
Charlotte was thankful and went once more to lock herself and her
trouble in her state-room.

That evening, after dinner, she went forward with some of the other
passengers to the railed promenade which was the common evening
rendezvous. The _Belle Julie_ had tied up at a small town on the western
bank of the great river, and the ant procession of roustabouts was in
motion, going laden up the swing-stage and returning empty by the
foot-plank. Left to herself for a moment, Charlotte faced the rail and
again sought to single out the man whose fate she must decide.

She distinguished him presently; a grimy, perspiring unit in the crew,
tramping back and forth mechanically, staggering under the heaviest
loads, and staring stonily at the back of his file leader in the endless
round; a picture of misery and despair, Charlotte thought, and she was
turning away with the dangerous rebellion against the conventions
swelling again in her heart when Captain Mayfield joined her.

"I just wanted to show you," he said; and he pointed out a gang of men
repairing a slip in the levee embankment below the town landing. It was
a squad of prisoners in chains. The figures of the co