for its mate glistened in his own, and he was a man not
given to over-weeping.

CHAPTER III

ABOARD LE DAUPHIN.

The morning dawned moist and cold, with a stiff westerly wind. Just
before daylight a small boat pushed off the low beach, scraped along
the shallows, skirted the western edge of the island which there lies
endwise across the harbor, and put me aboard le Dauphin.

I alone had no part in all the noisy preparation for departure, but sat
absorbed in thought near an open port listening to the straining of the
masts, the flapping sails, the low complaining beat of the
wind-tormented waters.

Above the creak of the windlass raising anchor, I could catch snatches
of whispered conversation just outside the port. The two men were
beyond my range of vision. One seemed to be tossing in a boat, the
other hung down the vessel's side by a ladder. I made out,
disjointedly:

"Along in September--as soon as you return--all will be in
readiness--two thousand Creeks, Chickasaws, Natchez--we ought to have
no difficulty--Yvard--Spanish ships. The fall of Biloxi will be a
great thing for us." And much more that I could not hear clearly.

But I had heard enough to know there was some truth in the rumor of a
Spanish-Indian alliance, and an attack on Biloxi. And the name Yvard,
being unusual, clung somewhat to my memory.

I immediately ran on deck and sauntered over towards that side, seeking
to discover the traitor. No one was there, only a little group of
officers walking about; towards the shore were the retreating outlines
of a light boat. I knew none of these officers, any one of whom might
have been the man I overheard, and so I durst ask no questions. I
could therefore confide in no one on board for fear of making a
mistake, but must rely upon giving Bienville prompt warning upon my
return, and I must needs hide my reluctance and mingle with officers
and men, for perchance by this means I might uncover the scoundrel.

Although I made free with the men, pitched quoits, and joined in their
rough play, I trusted none, suspected all. No, not all. There were
two young fellows whom I was many times on the point of calling to my
confidence, but, thinking it wiser, kept my own counsel. Treason could
ever wear a smiling front and air of frankness.

Levert was a man much older than myself, of gloomy and taciturn
manners, yet something there was so masterful about him men obeyed him
whether they would or