now, Peterson. Go
to the wheel. Break out the anchor and get under way. At once, man! I
have no time to argue."

Peterson had never in his life heard me speak in this way before, but
now, for what reason I do not know--perhaps from force of habit,
perhaps because he knew I was owner of the boat, perhaps in awe of the
naked kris of Jean Lafitte, still presented menacingly at his
abdomen--the old skipper obeyed.

I heard the faint jangle of bells in the engine-room below. Obviously,
Williams, the engineer, was responsive to his sense of duty and
routine. The power came pulsing through the veins of the _Belle
Helene_ and I heard her screws revolve. I, myself, threw in the donkey
winch as she forged ahead, and so broke out the anchor. It still
swung, clogging her bows as she turned in the current. The bells again
jangled as she got more speed and as the anchor came home. Our
search-light swept a wide arc along the foot of Natchez Hill, as our
bows circled about and headed down the great river. And now we picked
in full view, hardly sixty fathoms distant, the dingey, pulled
furiously toward us. My friend, the varlet Cal Davidson, half stood in
the stern of the stubby craft and waved at us an excited hand.

"Ahoy there, Peterson!" he cried. "Stop! Hold on there! Wait! Where
are you going there!"

Peterson turned toward me an inquiring gaze, but I only pointed a hand
down-stream, and he obeyed me! I reached my hand to the cord and gave
Peterson, Davidson, Natchez and all the world, the salute of a long
and vibrant whistle of defiance. It came back to us in echoes from the
giant bluffs, swept across the lowlands on the opposite side.

"Full speed ahead, Peterson," said I quietly.

"Where are we going, Mr. Harry?" he demanded anxiously.

"I don't know," said I. "It all depends--maybe around the world. I
don't know and I don't care."

"I'm scared about this--it don't look right. What's come into you, Mr.
Harry?" asked the old man solicitously.

"Nothing, Peterson," said I, "except that the bird of time is on the
wing. I am a pirate, Peterson----"

"I never knew you so far gone in drink before, Mr. Harry," said he, as
he threw over the wheel to pick up the first starboard channel light.

"Yes, I have been drinking, Peterson," said I. "I have been drinking
the wine of life. It oozes drop by drop, and is all, too soon, gone if
we delay. Full speed ahead, Peterson. I am in command."

"Jean!" I called to my able lieuten