Jolly Rover with its skull and
cross-bones. And as we swung swiftly out into midstream, ablaze in
light from bow to stern, ghostlike in our swiftness and the silence of
our splendid engines, I had reason to understand all the descriptive
writing which, as I later learned, greeted the defiant departure of
this pirate craft and its ruffian crew. Thus I bade all the world come
and take from me what I had taken for my own.

I stepped to the wheel with Peterson, expecting to find him pale in
consternation. To my surprise he was calm, save for a new glitter in
his eye.

"There's nothing on the river can touch her," said he, as he picked up
his first channel light and called for more speed. "Let 'em come!"

A sudden recklessness had caught us all, it seemed, the old spirit of
lawless man breaking the leash of custom. I shared it--with exultation
I knew I shared it with these others. The lust of youth for adventure
held us all, and the years were as naught.

I turned now to find Helena, and met L'Olonnois, his face beaming.

"Wasn't that a peach of a shot?" said he. "It would of blew yon varlet
out of the water, if I'd had anything to load with except just them
marbles. Are you looking for Auntie Helen? She has just went below."

CHAPTER XXVII

IN WHICH WE REACH THE SPANISH MAIN

It was as Peterson had said--nothing on the river could touch the
_Belle Helene_. And it also was as I had not said but had thought--the
water left no trail. By daylight we were far below the old
battle-field, far below the old forts, far below La Hache, and among
the channels of the great estuary whose marshes spread for scores of
miles on either hand impenetrably. Quarantine lay yonder, the
Southwest Passage opened here; and on beyond, a stone's throw now for
a vessel logging our smooth speed, rolled the open sea. And still
there rose behind us the smoke of no pursuing craft, nor did any seek
to bar our way. So far as I knew, the country had not been warned by
any wire down-stream from the city. We saw to it that no calling
points were passed in daylight. As for the chance market shooter
paddling his log pirogue to his shooting ground in the dawn, or the
occasional sportsman of some ducking club likewise engaged, they
saluted us gaily enough, but without suspicion. Even had they known, I
doubt whether they would have informed on us, for all the world loves
a lover, and these Southerners themselves now traveled waters long
known to