his prisoner, a great, towering, castellated object, half
seen in the night, her broadside of cabin lights, and their reflection
in the ripples, sparkling through the darkness like a chain of golden
stars.

They left no stress of curiosity behind them; naught in the delta can
compete in interest with the threatened collapse of a levee in times
of high water. Before the rowboat had reached the steamer's side, its
occupants could hear the great plantation-bell ringing like mad to
summon forth into the midnight all available hands to save the levee,
and, looking back presently, a hundred lanterns were seen flickering
hither and thither, far down in the dusk--no illusion this, for all
deltaic rivers are higher in the centre than their banks--where the busy
laborers, with thousands of gunny-sacks filled with sand, were fighting
the Mississippi, building a barricade to fence it from the rich spoils
it coveted.

The packet, which, as it happened, was already overdue, had been
telephoned by the officers at her last landing, and a number of men
stood on the guards expectant. Hoxer had ceased to struggle. He looked
up at the steamer, his pallid face and wide, distended eyes showing in
the cabin lights, as the rowboat pulled alongside. Then as the sheriff
directed him to rise, he stood up at his full height, stretched his
manacled hands high above his head, and suddenly dived into deep water,
leaving the boat rocking violently, and in danger of capsizing with the
officers.

A desperate effort was made to recover the prisoner, alive or dead--all
in vain. A roustabout on the deck declared that in the glare of the
steamer's search-light, thrown over the murky waters, he was seen to
come to the surface once, but if he rose a second time it must have
been beneath the great bulk of the packet, to go down again to the death
awaiting him in the deeps.

On the bank a little dog sat through sunshine and shadow in front of the
door of the shack of the contractor of the levee-construction gang, and
awaited his return with the patient devotion of his kind. Sometimes, as
the padlock wavered in the wind, he would cock his head briskly askew,
forecasting from the sound a step within. Sometimes the grief of absence
and hope deferred would wring his humble heart, and he would whimper
in an access of misery and limp about a bit. But presently he would be
seated again, alertly upright, his eyes on the door, for the earliest
glimpse of the face