and some talked of appealing to the Captain not to allow the
race. But they knew they were in the minority, and held their peace.

I had made up my mind at least to ask the Captain "his intentions." I
was prompted rather by curiosity than by any other motive.

I left my seat, therefore, and having crossed the staging, walked toward
the top of the wharf, where this gentleman was standing.

CHAPTER FIVE.

A DESIRABLE FELLOW-PASSENGER.

Before I had entered into conversation with the Captain, I saw a
barouche approaching on the opposite side, apparently coming from the
French quarter of the city. It was a handsome equipage, driven by a
well-clad and evidently well-fed black, and as it drew near, I could
perceive that it was occupied by a young and elegantly-attired lady.

I cannot say why, but I felt a presentiment, accompanied perhaps by a
silent wish, that the occupant of the barouche was about to be a
fellow-passenger. It was not long before I learnt that such was her
intention.

The barouche drew up on the crest of the Levee, and I saw the lady
directing some inquiry to a bystander, who immediately pointed to our
Captain. The latter, perceiving that he was the object inquired after,
stepped up to the side of the carriage, and bowed to the lady. I was
close to the spot, and every word reached me.

"Monsieur! are you the captain of the Belle of the West?"

The lady spoke in French, a smattering of which the Captain in his
intercourse with the Creoles had picked up.

"Yes, madame," was the reply.

"I wish to take passage with you."

"I shall be most happy to accommodate you, madame. There is still one
state-room disengaged, I believe, Mr Shirley?"

Here the Captain appealed to the clerk, in order to ascertain if such
was the case.

"Never mind!" said the lady, interrupting him, "for the matter of a
state-room it is of no importance! You will reach my plantation before
midnight, and therefore I shall not require to sleep aboard."

The phrase, "my plantation," evidently had an effect upon the Captain.
Naturally not a rude man, it seemed to render him still more attentive
and polite. The proprietor of a Louisiana plantation is a somebody not
to be treated with nonchalance; but, when that proprietor chances to be
a young and charming lady, who could be otherwise than amiable? Not
Captain B., commander of the "Belle of the West!" The very name of his
boat negatived the presumption!

Smiling