occurred in the same moment. A number of
boats above Canal Street and several of lesser fame below sounded their
third bell, cast off, and backed out into the stream. The many pillars
of smoke widened across the heavens into one unrifted cloud with the
sunbeams illumining its earthward side. Now it overhung the busy landing
and now, at the river's first bend, it filled the tops of the dark mass
of spars and cordage that densely lined the long curve of the harbor's
up-town shipping.

At the same time, while the foremost boats were still in sight, the two
pilots in the pilot-house of the lingering _Votaress_ quietly took stand
at right and left of the wheel with their eyes on a distant vehicle, a
private carriage. It came swiftly out of Common Street and across the
broad shell-paved levee. As quietly as they, the youth at the derrick
post regarded it, and presently, looking back and up, he gave them a
slight, gratified nod. Through the lines of onlookers the carriage swept
close up to the stage and let down two aristocratic-looking men. The
taller was full fifty years of age, the other as much as seventy-five,
but both were hale and commanding.

As they started aboard the younger glanced up brightly to the unsmiling
youth at the roof's rail and then threw a gesture, above and beyond him,
to the pilot-house. One of the pilots promptly sounded the bell. Down on
the forecastle a dozen deck-hands, ordered by a burly mate, leaped to
the stage and began, with half as many others who ran ashore on it, to
heave it aboard. But a sharp "avast" stopped them, and four or five
cabin-boys gambolled out on it ashore. A smart hack came whirling up in
its own white shell dust, and a fledgling dandy of seventeen sprang down
from the seat of his choice by the driver before the vehicle could stop
or the white jackets strip it of its baggage.

III

CERTAIN PASSENGERS

From his dizzy outlook the older youth dropped his calm scrutiny upon
the inner occupants as they alighted and followed the boy on board.
First came a red-ringleted, fifteen-year-old sister, fairly
good-looking, almost too free of glance, and--to her high-perched
critic--urgently eligible to longer skirts. Behind her appeared an old,
very black nurse in very blue calico and very white turban and bosom
kerchief; and lastly a mother--of many children, one would have
said--still perfect in complexion, gracefully rounded, and beautiful.

This was the first time he on