by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
THE HOUMA.
I had not much longer to remain on the wharf-boat. The hoarse barkingof a 'scape-pipe fell upon my ear and shortly after the fires of asteamboat furnace appeared, glittering red upon the stream. Then washeard the crashing plunging sound of the paddle-wheels as they beat thebrown water, and then the ringing of the bell, and the shouts of commandpassing from captain to mate, and from mate to "deck hands," and in fiveminutes after, the "Houma"--Red River-boat,--lay side by side with theold "Sultana."
I stepped aboard, threw my luggage over the guard, and, climbingup-stairs, seated myself under the awning.
Ten minutes of apparent confusion--the quick trampling of feet over thedecks and staging--half-a-dozen passengers hastening ashore--othershurrying in the opposite direction--the screeching of the steam--therattling of huge fire-logs thrust endways up the furnace--at intervalsthe loud words of command--a peal of laughter at some rude jest, or themurmur of voices in the sadder accents of adieu. Ten minutes of thesesights and sounds, and again was heard the ringing of the large bell--the signal that the boat was about to continue her course.
I had flung myself into a chair that stood beside one of theawning-posts, and close to the guards. From my position I commanded aview of the gangway, the staging-plank, and the contiguous wharf-boat,which I had just left.
I was looking listlessly on what was passing below, taking note ofnothing in particular. If I had a special thought in my mind thesubject of it was not there, and the thought itself caused me to turn myeyes away from the busy groups and bend them downward along the leftbank of the river. Perhaps a sigh was the concomitant of theseoccasional glances; but in the intervals between, my mind dwelt uponnothing in particular, and the forms that hurried to and fro impressedme only as shadows.
This apathy was suddenly interrupted. My eyes, by pure accident, fellupon two figures whose movements at once excited my attention. Theystood upon the deck of the wharf-boat--not near the stage-plank, wherethe torch cast its glare over the hurrying passengers, but in a remotecorner under the shadow of the awning. I could see them only in anobscure light,--in fact, could scarce make out their forms, shrouded asthey were in dark cloaks--but the attitudes in which they stood, thefact of their keeping thus apart in the most obscure quarter of theboat, the apparent earnestness with which they were conversing--all ledme to conjecture that they were lovers. My heart, guided by the sweetinstinct of love, at once accepted this explanation, and looked for noother.
"Yes--lovers! how happy! No--perhaps not so happy--it is a _parting_!Some youth who makes a trip down to the city--perhaps some young clerkor merchant, who goes to spend his winter there. What of that? He willreturn in spring, again to press those delicate fingers, again to foldthat fair form in his arms, again to speak those tender words that willsound all the sweeter after the long interval of silence.
"Happy youth! happy girl! Light is the misery of a parting like yours!How easy to endure when compared with that violent separation which Ihave experienced! Aurore!--Aurore!--Would that you were free! Wouldthat you were some high-born dame! Not that I should love you themore--impossible--but then might I boldly woo, and freely win. Then Imight hope--but now, alas! this horrid gulf--this social abyss thatyawns between us. Well! it cannot separate souls. Our love shallbridge it--Ha!"
"Hilloa, Mister! What's gwine wrong? Anybody fell overboard!"
I heeded not the rude interrogatory. A deeper pang absorbed my soul,forcing from me the wild exclamation that had given the speaker cause.
The two forms parted--with a mutual pressure of the hand, with a kissthey parted! The young man hastened across the staging. I did notobserve his face, as he passed under the light. I had taken no noticeof _him_, my eyes by some strange fascination remaining fixed upon_her_. I was curious to observe how _she_ would act in this finalmoment of leave-taking.
The planks were drawn aboard. The signal-bell sounded. I couldperceive that we were moving away.
At this moment the shrouded form of the lady glided forward into thelight. She was advancing to catch a farewell glance of her lover. Afew steps brought her to the edge of the wharf-boat, where the torch wasglaring. Her hood-like gun-bonnet was thrown back. The light fell fullupon her face, glistened along the undulating masses of black hair thatshrouded her temples, and danced in her glorious eyes. Good God! theywere the eyes of _Aurore_!
No wonder I uttered the wild ejaculation--
"It is she!"
"What?--a female! overboard, do you say? Where? Where?"
The man was evidently in earnest. My soliloquy had been loud enough toreach his ears.
He believed it to be a reply to his previous question, and my excitedmanner confirmed him in the belief that a woman had actually fallen intothe river!
His questions and exclamations were overheard and repeated in the voicesof others who stood near. Like wildfire an alarm ran through the boat.Passengers rushed from the cabins, along the guards, and out to thefront awning, and mingled their hurried interrogatories, "Who? What?Where?" A loud voice cried out--
"Some one overboard! A woman! it's a woman!"
Knowing the cause of this ridiculous alarm, I gave no heed to it. Mymind was occupied with a far different matter. The first shock of ahideous passion absorbed my whole soul, and I paid no attention to whatwas going on around me.
I had scarce recognised the face, when the boat rounding up-streambrought the angle of the cabin between it and me. I rushed forward, asfar as the gangway. I was too late:--the wheel-house obstructed theview. I did not halt, but ran on, directing myself towards the top ofthe wheel-house. Passengers in their excitement were rushing along theguards. They hindered my progress, and it was some time before I couldclimb up the wheel-house, and stand upon its rounded roof. I did so atlength, but too late. The boat had forged several hundred yards intothe stream. I could see the wharf-boat with its glaring lights. Icould even see human forms standing along its deck, but I could nolonger distinguish that one that my eyes were in search of.
Disappointed I stepped on to the hurricane-deck, which was almost acontinuation of the roof of the wheel-house. There I could be alone,and commune with my now bitter thoughts.
I was not to have that luxury just then. Shouts, the trampling of heavyboots bounding over the planks, and the pattering of lighter feet,sounded in my ears; and next moment a stream of passengers, male andfemale, came pouring up the sides of the wheel-house.
"That's the gentleman--that's him!" cried a voice.
In another instant the excited throng was around me, several inquiringat once--
"Who's overboard? Who? Where?"
Of course I saw that these interrogatories were meant for me. I saw,too, that an answer was necessary to allay their ludicrous alarm.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" I said, "there is no one overboard that I amaware of. Why do you ask _me_?"
"Hilloa, Mister!" cried the cause of all this confusion, "didn't youtell me--?"
"I told you nothing."
"But didn't I ask you if thar wan't some one overboard?"
"You did."
"And you said in reply--"
"I said nothing in reply."
"Darned if you didn't! you said `Thar she is!' or, `It was she!' orsomething o' that sort."
I turned towards the speaker, who I perceived was rather losing creditwith his auditory.
"Mister!" said I, imitating his tone, "it is evident you have neverheard of the man who grew immensely rich by minding his own business."
My remark settled the affair. It was received by a yell of laughter,that completely discomfited my meddling antagonist, who, after somelittle swaggering and loud talk, at length went below to the "bar" tosoothe his mortified spirit with a "gin-sling."
The others dropped away one by one, and dispersed themselves through thevarious cabins and saloons; and I found myself once more the soleoccupant of the hurricane-deck.
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