-"

"I remained 'released'."

"Yes, it is true."

"And am free, have been, to do as I liked."

"Yes, true."

"And what earthly right has a man to try both roles with a woman--that
of discarded and accepted? You chose the first; and I never gave you
the last. It is horrible, this sort of talk. It is abominable. For
three years we have not met or spoken. I've not had a heartache since
I told you. Don't give me a headache now. And it would make my head
ache, to follow these crazy notions. Put us ashore!"

"Not till I know the truth," said I.

"About what?"

"Well, for instance, about the waistcoat with pink stripes."

"You are silly."

"Yes. How do you like my suit?"

"I never saw Mr. Davidson wear that one," said she.

"For good reasons. It is my own, and four years old. You see, a poor
man has to economize. And you know, since I lost my fortune, I've been
living almost from hand to mouth. Honestly, Helena, many is the time
when I've gone out fishing, trying to catch me a fish for my supper!"

"So does a poor girl have to economize," said she.

"You are most sparing of the truth this morning, Helena, my dear," I
said.

"How dare you!" she blazed now at the tender phrase. "Fine, isn't it,
when I can't get away? If I could, I'd go where I'd never see or hear
of you again. I thought I had."

"But you have not. You shall hear and see me daily till I know from
your own lips the truth about you and--and every and any other man on
earth who--well, who wears waistcoats with pink stripes."

"We'll have a long ride then," said she calmly, and rose.

I rose also and bowed.

CHAPTER XVII

IN WHICH IS HUE AND CRY

We ran by the river-front of Baton Rouge, and lay to on the opposite
side while our dingey ran in with mail. I sent Peterson and Lafitte
ashore for the purpose, and meantime paced the deck in several frames
of mind. I was arrested in this at length by L'Olonnois, who was
standing forward, glasses in hand.

"Here they come," said he, "and a humpin' it up, too. Look, Jean
Lafitte is standin' up, wavin' at us. Something's up, sure. Mayhap, we
are pursued by the enemy. Methinks 'tis hue and cry, good Sir."

"It jolly well does look like it, mate," said I, taking his glasses.
"Something's up."

I could see the stubby dingey forced half out the water by Peterson's
oars, though she made little speed enough. And I saw men hurrying on
the wharf, as though about to put out a boat.

"What's wr