ted the number of his post and
called out that all was well. Then the blue-jackets drew a long breath
of relief, and congratulated themselves and each other on having passed
Plymouth without knowing it. Perhaps this was a fortunate thing for
Jonas. It might have frightened the wits all out of him if he had
dreamed of such a thing, but the two sailors who crouched by his side in
the leading cutter held revolvers in their hands, and were under orders
to shoot him down at the first sign of treachery. He knew, however, that
they were watching him, for on several occasions, when it was found
necessary to change the course of the boat in order to follow the
windings of the stream, they had cautioned him to clap a stopper on his
jaw-tackle and pass his instructions aft in a whisper, like any other
white gentleman.

"Da' now! Da' now!" said Jonas suddenly.

"Not so loud, you black rascal," commanded one of the guards,
emphasizing his words with a crushing grip on the negro's shoulder.
"What's the row?"

"Cap'n Beardsley used to live right ober da', 'fore de Union men riz up
an' burn' him out," replied Jonas.

"We don't care where he used to live," growled the tar. "Where does he
live now?"

"Right ober da'," repeated the negro. "An' you uns got ter lan' heah on
de lef' han' side ob de bayou."

This information was duly passed aft to Mr. Watkins, who sat in the
stern-sheets by the side of the coxswain, and the first cutter was
turned in toward the bank, the others following close in her wake. When
Mr. Watkins stepped ashore, he demanded of Jonas why he had landed the
expedition in those dark woods where there was not a sign of a house to
be seen; and the negro hastened to explain that the road lay about a
quarter of a mile straight ahead, and that the house in which Beardsley
formerly lived stood on the other side of it. The drive-way, which ran
close by the ruins of the dwelling, led into a lane that passed through
the quarter; and there, in the overseer's house, was where Beardsley
lived now. This much having been learned, and a guard being left in
charge of the boats, forty sailors, with Jonas and his keepers at their
head, began threading their way through the thick bushes in the
direction in which the road lay. Twenty minutes' time sufficed to bring
them to it, but when Jonas began giving further instructions and
directions Mr. Watkins interrupted him.

"Right da' is de drive-way," said he, "an' down da' is de lane