vessel. I had no reason to assume this, except the wording of
Broussard's report which I had overheard. But she was a prisoner, and
this vessel would be the most likely place for her to be confined. I
sat up, my flesh burning, and stared about. The light shining through
the single closed port was dim, convincing me the sun had already set,
yet I could perceive the few furnishings of that interior. These
consisted merely of a double berth, a blanket spread over the lower
mattress, and a four-legged stool. Hooks, empty, decorated the walls,
and a small lamp dangled from the overhead beam. As I got to my feet I
could feel a faint throb of the engine, and realized we were moving
slowly through the water. The glass of the porthole was thick, but
clear. I knelt on the berth, and looked out, dimly perceiving the
shore-line slipping past, with an ever-broadening stretch of water
intervening. Then I sat down helplessly on the stool, and waited for
something to occur. Escape was impossible; I could only hope for some
movement on the part of my captors.

I had little enough to think over, for the few words spoken in the
cellar had furnished no clew. My purpose there was known, and these
men had considered it worth while to put me out of the way, and to pick
up my companion also, yet I could not directly connect this action with
Judge Henley's will. We might have merely crossed their path,
interfered with their criminal plans. If so, then it was more than
likely our release would not be long delayed. Indeed, the man who
appeared to be the chief, had already said he would turn the girl free
in New Orleans, where she could do them no harm. New Orleans then was,
doubtless, the port for which we sailed. My knowledge of distance was
vague, yet that could not be a long voyage, nor one involving any great
danger. It was clear they meant no personal harm to her, and they
would never have brought me on board alive, if they had deemed it