again, waving a
cheerful reassurance.

"A mere swoon," said the bishop; "all right again."

"It may be all right up there," the squire's sister began to say to the
actor's wife--and hushed. But Ramsey had heard, as she watched her
mother hurry below to the young Marburg brother lying as limp and
faintly pink in death as her brother up here in life; heard, and thought
of the perils in store for Hugh and his kin and her and hers unless this
sweet, wise mother could charm them away as sunlight charms away
pestilence. Mr. Gilmore called her:

"Come, we've lots to do."

But how could one come just then? A slight turn of the boat's head was
putting Natchez Island close on her larboard bow and, seven miles away,
bringing hazily into sight Natchez herself, both on her bluffs and
"under-the-hill." Nay, more; abreast the _Votaress_ was another fine
boat. The _Westwood_, she was named. Her going was beautiful, yet the
_Votaress_ was gradually passing her. The Yazoo pair knew her well. When
they made salute toward two men who stood near her forward skylights,
one of them returned it.

"Why should he be so solemn?" asked the wife.

"Why shouldn't he?" laughed Ramsey.

"Because he's a mere passenger, on his wedding tour."

"Humph!" said Ramsey. "Weddings are solemn things. Is that other man the
captain?" she asked the husband.

"No, I regret to say, he's only her first clerk."

"Why should you regret to say it?" inquired the girl; but the wife, too,
had a question:

"Do you think there's anything wrong?"

"N-no, oh, no."

The _Westwood's_ clerk made a sign to Captain Courteney. The captain
glanced up to Watson, and the two boats, still at full speed, began to
draw sidewise together. But Ramsey's liveliest interest was in the
_Westwood's_ crew, who, far below about her capstan, were paying their
compliments to the newer, larger, speedier boat in song and refrain with
stately wavings and dippings of ragged hats and naked black arms. Now
the boats' guards almost touched and their commanders spoke so quietly
together that she did not hear their words. But she noted the regretful
air with which John Courteney shook his head to the _Westwood's_ clerk
and then to the passenger, and the _Westwood_ began again to drop
behind. Hugh came near, paused, and glanced around.

"Looking for the commodore?" she asked.

"I thought you went down with Mrs. Gilmore," he replied, "to rehearse
your part in the play."

"Commodore's down