Chapter XXIII: Waiting for a Boat

Visit unexpected and ill-timed--what could be its object? This was the thought of all three.

I for one must not be seen by him. The sight of me would frustrate all our plans--even the knowledge that I still lived.

Neither should the Tennessean. His presence would require explanation; and perhaps cause a change in the programme we had sketched out for the pirate.

Our host alone must receive him. There was just time for Henry to get out of the drawing-room, and close the door after him, when Mr. Bradley stepped into the porch.

Uninvited he could not gracefully go further.

Walter and I, silent inside, could hear every word that was said.

Bradley spoke first.

"Well, Hen," he said, after the usual exchange of salutations, "reckon I've got here too late."

"For what?" was the natural inquiry.

"Boat. I want to go down to Orleans. The Yazoo City was to have left Vicksburg yesterday evening, and I thought I might catch her at your landing. I suppose I'm too late, as I heard a boat pass, while I was coming through the woods. She was going down; and I reckon it must have been the City."

There was an interval of silence, during which we awaited Henry's response. He made none. The presence of such a guest--under such circumstances--had taken him by surprise; and he was no doubt hesitating as to what he should say.

As Bradley had put no direct interrogatory, he did not stay for an answer; but continued:

"She must have passed here very early--before you were out of your bed. Do you think any of your niggers saw her? They would know if it was the City. They could read the name I reckon?"

"Yes," replied Henry, at length, speaking with evasion. "Some of them did see a boat pass down. It was not the Yazoo City; but an up-river boat from the Ohio, I believe."

"Oh! in that case the City will be along yet. She ought to be near now. I'll go down to the landing to look out for her. You don't mind sending one of your niggers to fetch my horse back to the house here? There's one of mine coming after, to take him home."

"Certainly not," said Henry, evidently pleased at the prospect of his visitor making such a short stay. "One of them shall go down with you at once."

"And look ye, Henry Woodley!" continued Bradley, with a change of tone, "now that I'm here, I may as well tell you what I intend doing. I want that $2,000. I want it d--d bad; and I mean to have it. I've asked you for it half a score of times, till I'm sick of asking. And now I'll give you till I come back from Orleans, which will be in about a fortnight. If you can't pay then, why I must get judgment on the bill, and take some of your niggers. I'm sorry to be sharp with you; but I must have the money."

"When you come back--a fortnight you say--perhaps I may have--"

The debtor was thinking that before a fortnight's time he might be relieved of his liability in a way his creditor little expected.

"Oh! d--n your _perhaps_!" rudely interrupted the latter. "If you don't have it--Hilloa! what's that?"

As he uttered this exclamation, we could hear Bradley rushing further out upon the porch, as if to inform himself of something that was passing outside.

There was an interval of profound stillness, and through a side-window in the drawing-room, in which the casement stood open, we could distinguish faint and far off the hollow sound of the "scape-pipe."

"By Jove, it's the boat! Ten chances to one if I'll be in time to catch her. Send after me for the horse!"

As he issued this impudent command, the unwelcome visitor hurried on through the gate, leaped into the saddle and went off at a gallop along the road, toward the landing.

As promised, a negro was dispatched after to take charge of his horse, and for some time we all listened in great anxiety. If Bradley should miss the boat, he would be sure to come back to the house and perhaps remain there waiting for another. This would be a serious interference with our plans, and might end in altogether defeating them, by his discovering of our presence upon the plantation!

It was a pleasant sound, that continued hissing of steam, that came borne upon the breeze from the direction of the river.

It told us that the boat was laying to, to take on board a passenger, who could be no other than Nat Bradley.

This was soon after confirmed by the return of his horse, ridden by the darky with the saddle stripped of its bags.

The planter pirate had posted to New Orleans to dispose of his late capture, perfectly unsuspicious that the owner was so near, and at the same time taking measures for the recovery of the spoil.