"You did take some chance, did you not?" she said slowly.
"It might be a chance."
"But you will be so nervous you can't enjoy your spread."
"Not in the least, Helena. A nervous man has no business in the trade of piracy;--but, ah! the _fillet_ of trout, Helena."
Jean was proud of his art, the chef proud also, and the chef knew we were here. A general air of comfort seemed to settle down upon our little corner of the restaurant, a quiet contentment. For the most part, folk came here who had no hurry and no anxiety, and it was a sort of club for many persons who knew how to eat and to live and to enjoy life quietly, as life should be enjoyed. None dreamed, of course, that aught but equal leisure existed for our little table, where sat a rather lank and shabby man in flannels, and a very especially beautiful young woman in half evening dress. At Luigi's, every one is polite to every one else, and the curiosity is but that of fraternity. Perhaps, some eyes were cast our way, I could not tell.
Jean, in slow solemnity and pleasant ease, brought on many things not nominated in the bond. At length he arranged his duck-press on his little table near us, and having squeezed the elixir from the two dissected fowls, began to stir the juices into a sauce of his own, made with sherry wine and a touch of _file_, many things which Jean knows best. He was just in the act of pouring this most delectable sauce over the two bits of tender fowl upon our hot plates, when, happening to look up, I saw some one entering the door.
"Jean, if you please," said I, deliberately pulling the coat-rack in front of our table, "Mademoiselle perhaps feels a slight draft. Would you fetch a screen?"
He turned. "Helena," said I, after a moment, "now our adventure has come."
"What do you mean?" said she. "Why do you do that?"--she nodded at the screen. "Why, I say?"
"I have your parole?"
"Yes."
"I am glad it is yes!" said I. "You could break it now and escape so easily. One little move on your part and my punishment is at hand."
"Who was it?" she asked, suspecting.
"No one much," said I, "only our esteemed friend, Mr. Calvin Davidson, whose waistcoat I am now wearing. Some one is with him, I don't know who it is. A very nice-looking lady, next to the most beautiful woman in this room, I must say."
"Let me see," said she; and I allowed her to look through the crack in the screen.
"She certainly is very stunning," said I, "is she not? Tall, dark, a trifle superb--I wonder--I wonder sometimes, Helena, if Cal Davidson is true to Poll?"
"Nonsense!" was her retort. "But as you say, here is our adventure, or at least yours. How do you propose to get out of it?"
"I don't know yet," said I. "Just at present I do not wish this canvasback to get cold. We have remaining before us two hours or more, ample time to make any plan which may be needed. Coffee, I have found, is excellent for plans. Let us make no plans until we have had our coffee, after our little dinner. That will be an hour or so yet.
Plenty of time to plan, Helena," said I. "And please do not slight this bird--it is delicious."
Her eyes still were sparkling. "I'm rather glad I came," said she.
"So am I, and I shall be glad when we are back. But meantime I trust you, Helena, absolutely. I will even tell you more. Davidson's boat, the one which we left him instead of the _Belle Helene_, is lying in the same slip with ours, rubbing noses with our yacht yonder, as I showed you. Our men have talked with his. They do not yet suspect that we are the vessel which everybody wants to find. I am very thankful their engineer was so sleepy. I learned there at the wharf that Cal Davidson was down-town at his club. He seems to have departed long enough to find excellent company, as usual. I am glad that he has done so, for in all likelihood he will not return to his own boat before to-morrow morning. He will prefer his room at the club to his bunk on the _Sea Rover_, if I know Cal Davidson. And by that time I hope to be far away."
"Does he know who you are--does he know who it was that took the _Belle Helene_?"
"I think not. But, very stupidly--being so anxious to see the original--I left a photograph of yourself on our old boat, the _Sea Rover_. Item, one cigarette case with my initials. Of course, Cal Davidson may guess the simple truth, or he may make a mystery of these things. It seems he prefers to make a mystery; and I am sure that suits me much better."
"But knowing these things--knowing that his boat was lying right at the dock alongside of us--why did you stop?"
"I thought it was you, Helena, who suggested this little adventure at Luigi's! And I promise you I am enjoying it very much. It seems so much like old times."
"But that can't ever be over again, Harry."
"Naturally not. But often new times are quite as good as old ones. I can conceive of such a thing in our case. No, I shall use this privilege of your society to the limit, Helena, fearing I may not see you soon again, after once I have put you back in your hat box. You coaxed me to leave the boat, and I shall tell you when to return."
"Why not now?"
"No, at twelve o'clock. Not earlier."
"And you propose sitting here with me till then?"
"I could imagine no better pastime, were I condemned to die at sunrise. Tell me, do you wish me to call Mr. Davidson?"
"Of course I do not, since I gave you my word. Besides, I know that girl with him. It's Sally Byington. Some call her good-looking, but I am sure I don't know why."
"Fie upon you! She is superb. In short, Helena, I am not sure but she is finer-looking than yourself!"
"Indeed!"
"Yes. Cal Davidson, whatever may be his taste in neckties or waistcoats, seems to me excellent in this other regard. Perhaps just a trifle flamboyant for Luigi's, but certainly stunning."
"Our relations are not such as to lead me to discuss our friends," she rejoined haughtily. "And, as you say, our duck is getting cold. I adore these canvasbacks. I would like to come back to-morrow and have another." She cut savagely into her fowl.
"Alas, Helena, to-morrow you will be far away. In time I hope to reconcile you to the simple life of piracy. Indeed, unless all plans go wrong, we may very likely have canvasbacks on the boat; although I can not promise you that John will be as good a chef as our friend here at Luigi's. All good buccaneers use their fair captives well."
"Indeed! And why do you not ask Sally Byington into your list of prisoners, since you fancy her so much."
"Nay, say not so, Helena. I trust I am somewhat catholic in taste regarding ladies, as any gentleman should be, yet after all, I am gentler in my preferences. Quite aside from that, I find one fair captive quite enough to make me abundant trouble."
At about this time Jean approached behind the screen, bearing a copy of a late edition of an evening paper, which fortunately he seemed not closely to have scanned. I took it quickly and placed it with the front page down.
"Monsieur no doubt has heard of the great sensation?" commented Jean.
"No, what is that, Jean?"
"The papers have been full of nothing else. It seems a band of cutthroat river pirates have stolen a gentleman's yacht, and so far as can be told, have escaped with it down the river, perhaps entirely to the Gulf."
"That, Jean," said I, "is a most extraordinary thing. Are you sure of the facts?"
"Naturally--is it not all in the paper? This gentleman then has his yacht anchored at Natchez, and he goes ashore on important business.
Comes then this band of river ruffians in the dark, and as though pirates of a hundred years ago, and led by Jean Lafitte himself, they capture the vessel!"
"_Mon Dieu!_ Jean you do not say so?"
"But assuredly I say so; nor is that all, Monsieur. On board this yacht was a young and beautiful lady of great wealth and beauty, as well--the fiancee, so it is said, of this gentleman who owns the yacht. What is the action of these pirates in regard to this beautiful young lady and her aunt, who also is upon the yacht for the cruise? Do they place these ladies ashore? No, they imprison them upon the boat, and so, _pouf!_ off for the gulf. Nor has any trace of them been found from that time till now. A rumor goes that the gentleman who owns the yacht is at this time in New Orleans, but as for that unfortunate young lady, where is she to-night? I demand that, Monsieur. Ah! And she is beautiful."
"Now, is not this a most extraordinary tale you bring, Jean? Let us hope it is not true. Why, if it were true, that ruffian might escape and hide for days or weeks in the bayous around Barataria, even as Jean Lafitte did a hundred years ago."
"Assuredly he might. Ah, I know it well, that country. But Jean Lafitte was no pirate, simply a merchant who did not pay duties. And he sold silks and laces cheap to the people hereabout--I could show you the very causeway they built across the marsh, to reach the place where he landed his boats at the heads of one of the great bays--it is not far from the plantation of Monsieur Edouard Manning, below New Iberia. Believe me, Monsieur, the country folk hunt yet for the buried treasure of Jean Lafitte; and sometimes they find it."
"You please me, Jean. Tell me more of that extraordinary person."